YANKEE NOTIONS 



YANKEE NOTIONS 



A MEDLEY. 



BY TIMO. TITTERWELL, ESfJ. -, ioi-at^ 



Just a bit of cold beef, a slice of bread and ale. Walk in 
gentlemen.— Old Play. 



BOSTON: 

OTIS, BROADERS AND COMPANY. 
1838. 






Mm 



Entered according to Act of Congregs in the year 1837, 

By Otis. Broaders & Co. 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



17 ^ f/3 



Press of Tuttle, Dennett & Chisholm — 17 School Street. 




PREFACE. 



Prefaces, gentle reader, are com- 
monly tiresome things : the less therefore 
I say in this part, the better. But a 
preface there must be to my book, as the 
neglect of such an introductory salutation 
would be like not making a bow on going 
into company : and as Don Quixote re- 
marks, ''there is nothing cheaper than ! 
civility." \ 

I have written this book for many rea- 
sons, every one of which you may be 
sure of, in five minutes guessing. As to 
the character of it, I may as well inform 
the reader in the very outset, that it is 
not designed to be popular, or consonant 
to the reigning taste of our reading and 



VI PREFACE. 

writing community. Most of the books 
now written among us, exhort people to 
wear long faces, save their money, cramp 
their souls, starve their bodies, besot 
their intellects, and be most dismally wise 
in all sorts of cool, calculating ways. 
Now the reader will find nothing of this 
sort in the following work ; therefore his 
best way will be to throw it aside at once, 
in case he expects me to follow in the 
track of our great American authors. 1 
frankly confess that I lack both the am- 
bition and the ability to imitate the pro- 
found philosophy of "Moral Hydrosta- 
ticks," the sentimental beauties of " Kitty 
Spriggins," and the moral sublimity of 
'*My Mother's Pewter Porringer.'' 

No, gentle reader, I hold with old King 
Solomon, that if there be a time to weep, 
there is also a time to laugh ; and in my 
opinion this is the very time. I shall do 



PREFACE. Vll 



my best to make you merry ; laugh there- 
fore while you may. The worst thing for 
a man's health is melancholy, but a good 
joke helps digestion and promotes longevi- 
ty. A good joke, like a good sherris sack, 
hath a twofold operation. It ascends me 
into the brain ; dries me there all the 
foolish and dull and crudy vapors which 
environ it ; makes it apprehensive, quick, 
forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, delectable 
shapes, which acting slily and sympa- 
thetically upon the corners of the mouth, 
produce hearty, jovial, honest laughter. 
The other property of your excellent 
joke is, the warming of the blood, which 
before, cold and settled, left the face 
long, the heart lumpish, the looks dump- 
ish, and the whole inward and outward 
man most dismally frumpish ; — all which 
are the badge of pusillanimity, cynical 
sourness, and pseudo-sapient self-conceit. 



Vlll PREFACE. 

But the joke warms it, and makes it course 
from the inwards to the parts extreme, 
mollify the heart, tickle the ribs, expand 
the pericardium, inspirit the lungs, light 
up the bosom, clear the oesophagus, lu- 
bricate the tongue, inspire the brain, 
sublimate the cerebellum, titillate the 
skull-bone, vivify the spiral marrow and 
quicken the whole nervous system : so 
that man being jolly, becometh perforce, 
generous, forgiving, liberal, communica- 
tive, frank, inquisitive, sympathetic, hu- 
mane and pious : and doeth noble deeds 
without end. And thus goodness, mer- 
cy, munificence, public spirit, patriotism, 
and the whole host of social virtues and 
christian charities come of joking. If I 
had a thousand sons, the first human 
principle I would teach them, should be 
to forswear doleful dumps and addict 
themselves to fun. 



PREFACE. IX 

But I grieve to say, gentle reader, 
people are not half so merry as they 
used to be. Alas ! how much occasion 
have we to exclaim with Panurge, 
'' Toutes les bonnes coutumes se per dent : le 
monde ne fait plus que rever .' " In times 
when our old grandmothers wore gold 
beads, hoop petticoats, and high-heeled 
shoes, folks were vastly more jovial than 
at present. They did not look upon it 
as vulgar to go a frolic, immoral to laugh, 
or suicidal to eat and drink what was 
comfortable ; — honest souls, they knew 
nothing of the march of intellect, and 
had no transcendental wiseacres to give 
them lectures against common sense, and 
teach them to be metaphysically misera- 
ble, or starve them by scientific rules, or 
stiffen their morality with any ''three 
experiments of starching." 

I would give many a sugar-cane 
To see three-comer'd hats again. 



I 



Now this decline of merriment has 
been the cause of nine tenths of all the 
evils we suffer at the present day. What 
makes people dyspeptical, hypochondria- 
cal, apoplectic, envious, rabid, fanatical, 
factious, quarrelsome, selfish, consump- 
tive and short-lived ? The doctors say 
this and that, but they know nothing 
about it. Politicians and metaphysiqians 
reason and speculate, but they cannot 
find out. The true cause is that afore- 
mentioned chilliness of the blood, occa- 
sioned by the want of good merriment : 
nothing else, depend upon it : for since 
good jollity has declined, nothing has gone 
on rightly among us. How came the 
heroes of seventysix to fight so valiant- 
ly to the tune of Yankee Doodle ? — 
Why simply because Yankee Doodle is a 
jolly, jigging, mirth-exciting tune. 

Q,uien canta, sus males espanta. 



PREFACE. XI 

Gentle reader, take my word for it, — 
food is necessary to life, whatever march- 
of-intellect folks and quack doctors may 
say to the contrary. Mirth is necessary 
to happiness, whatever your vinegar- 
faced, puritanical wiseacres may preach 
about the moral beauty of melancholy, 
and the delights of being dismal. I do 
seriously advise you, reader, not to starve 
yourself, not to hang yourself, — my life 
for yours ; — and not to believe that 
starvation and suicide are the great pur- 
poses of human life, although these prin- 
ciples are so strongly inculcated by the 
moral reformers and march-of-mind fana- 
tics, who are attempting to grind the 
world over anew with the gimcrack ma- 
chinery of their crazy systems. No sys- 
tem is worth a cherry-stone but this — 

Laugh when you can : — be sober when you must, 
For doleful dumps soon turn a man to dust. 

If any man finds fault with it, and longs, 



X" PREFACE. 

like Master Simon, for a three-legged 
stool to be melancholy upon ; — much 
good may it do him. The worst I wish 
him for his perversity, is that he may 
join a temperance society, and be soused 
in cold water till he is seven times cod- 
dled. 

Gentle reader, I have tried my best to 
be original in the following pages, by 
which you will probably understand that 
I have not stolen above half of the ma- 
terials. ''Convey, the wise it call.*' 
Original, did I say ? — How could I hope 
for success, knowing that five hundred 
thousand persons have written stories 
before me, and used up everything ? 
Nevertheless, should any wiseacre pre- 
tend to discover that my book is an 
imitation of Robinson Crusoe, Tristram 
Shandy, Clarissa Harlowe, Goody Two 
Shoes, or the Pilgrim's Progress, I must 



PREFACE. XIU 



needs tell him, he is under a very great 
mistake. 

Perhaps too, you expect me to apolo- 
gize for this publication, and to declare, 
by way of deprecating criticism, that I 
think very meanly of the work. I shall 
do no such thing. First because you 
would not believe me. Secondly, be- 
cause I do not believe so myself Truly, 
if I had not some good opinion of the 
book, I should not send it to the press, 
and hazard the publisher's cash and my 
own comfort. 

To speak the plain truth, which a pre- 
face rarely does, I shall be quite as much 
astonished as grieved, to learn a twelve- 
month hence, that the greater part of 
this edition has been used to singe tur- 
keys or burn a sooty chimney. Yet any 
critic is at liberty to find fault with the 
book ; and when he tells me that he 



XIV PREFACE. 

finds the work full of blemishes, the in- 
vention feeble, the style poor, and the 
sentiments trivial, I have an answer ready 
by telling him that I knew all this be- 
fore ; and like Steele in the Tatler, let 
me say, " if anything in this work is 
found to be particularly dull, the reader 
is informed there is a design in it." I 
have endeavored to serve up a variety of 
dishes, to please a variety of tastes. Still 
if any there be, who choose to travel 
from Dan to Beersheba, and call it all 
barren, I must e'en take my leave of 
them as the Archbishop did of the un- 
lucky Gil Bias, wishing them all manner 
of happiness and a better taste. 
I am, 

Gentle reader. 

Yours truly, 
TIMO. TITTERWELL. 

Merry-Go-Nimble Court — No. 2, round the corner, } 
Next door to the fat man's. \ 



CONTENTS 



Sonnet to Mirth, - - - - 17 
My First and Last Speech in the General Court, 18 

Biography of a Broomstic-k, - - - 84 

Ode to the South Pole, - - - 66 

The Age of Wonders, . - - 69 

Our Singing School, _ . ^ 76 

Benoni Burdock, - - - - 94 

Death and Doctor Sawdust, - - 101 

Thoughts on Seeing Ghosts, - - - 111 

Josh Beanpole's Courtship, - - 119 

Metaphysics, - - - - - 136 

Rime of the Ancient Pedler, - - 146 
Voyage of Discovery through the Streets of 

Boston, - - - - - 158 

The Science of Starvation, - - 165 

Decline and Fall of the City of Dogtovi^n, - 173 
Proceedings of the Society for the Diffusion 

of Useless Knowledge, - - - 18S 



XVI CONTENTS. 

Boston Lyrics, - - - - 196 

Bob Lee. A Tale, - - - - 198 

Horace in Boston, Epodon Od. ii. - 221 

The Dead Set, - - . - 225 

Horace in Boston, Lib. 2. Od. xvi. - 239 

The Two Moschetoes. - - - 242 

L' Envoi, - - - ^ - 256 



SONNET TO MIRTH. 

Come, gentle spirit of ethereal kind, 

Nymph of the radiant brow, whose rosy smile 
With soft enchantment sweetly could beguile 

To frolic fancy, Shakspeahe's glorious mind. 

Goddess, whose witching spell has intertwin'd 
Dull mortal clay with fire from heavenly skies ; 
Thou cherub sprite, whose sweet and sunny eyes 

Brighten'd the dungeon where Cervantes pined. 
Grant me a draught from thy life-kindling bowl ; 

Around my pen flit hovering, and inspire 

With strains of sparkling joy my genial soul, 

And fill my brain with fun-provoking fire ; 

Come, and my glowing heart shall wanton free, 
And flow a fountain of perennial glee. 



MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH IN THE 
GENERAL COURT. 

BY TOBIAS TTJRNIPTOP, 
EX-REPKESENTATIVE FROM THE TOWN OF saUASHBOROUGH. 

If I live a thousand years, I shall never 
forget the day I was chosen representative. 
Isaac Longlegs ran himself out of a year's 
growth to bring me the news, for I staid away 
from town meeting out of dignity, as the way 
is, being a candidate. At first I could n't be- 
lieve it, though when I spied Isaac coming 
round Slouch's corner with his coat-tails 
flapping in the wind, and pulling straight a- 
head for our house, I felt certain that some- 
thing was the matter, and my heart began to 
bump, bump so, under my jacket, that 't was 
a wonder it did nH knock a button off. How- 
ever, I put on a bold face, and when Isaac 
came bolting into the house, I pretended not 
to be thinking about it. 

" Lieutenant Turniptop ! " says Isaac, 
'' hah, hah ! you 've got the election ! " 



MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH, ETC. 19 

" Got what? " says I, pretending to be sur- 
prised, in a coolish sort of a way. 

" Got the election ! " says he, " all hollow; 
you 've got a majority of thirteen — a clear 
majority — clean, smack-smooth, and no two 
words about it ! " 

" Pooh ! " says I, trying to keep cool, 
though at the same time I felt all over — I 
can't tell how, only my skin did n't seem to 
fit me. " Pooh ! " says I again ; but the idea 
of going into public life, and being called 
" Squire Turniptop," was almost too much 
for me. I seemed to feel as if 1 was standing 
on the tip-top of the north pole, with my head 
above the clouds, the sun on one side and the 
moon on the other. " Got the election ] " 
says I ; " ahem ! hem ! hem ! " And so I 
tried to put on a proper dignity for the occa- 
sion, but 't was hard work. " Got a majori- 
ty?" says I once more. 

" As sure as a gun," says Isaac, '' I heard 
it with my own ears. Squire Dobbs read it 
off to the whole meeting — ' Tobias Turniptop 
has fifty nine, and — is — chosen !' " 

I thought I should have choked; six mil- 
lions of glorious ideas seemed to be swelling 
up all at a time within me. 1 had just been 
reading Doctor Growler's sermon on the end 



20 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

of the world, but now I thought the world 
was just beginning. 

" You 're representative to the Gineral 
Court ! " said Isaac, striking his forefinger 
into the palm of his left hand, with as much 
emphasis as if a new world had been created. 
I felt more magnanimous than ever. 

" I shan't accept," said I. (The Lord 
pardon me for lying.) 

"Shan't accept!" screamed out Isaac, in 
the greatest amazement, with his great goggle 
eyes staring out of his head. ''Shall I go 
back and tell them so?" 

"I mean I'll take it into consideration," 
said I, trying to look as important as I could. 
" It 's an office of great responsibility, Isaac," 
said I, '' but I '11 think of it, and after due 
deliberation — if my constituents insist upon 
my going — Isaac, what '11 you take to^ 
drink 7 " --^^---— ---=^^-^--— ^^ 

I could not shut my eyes to sleep all that 
night, and did nothing but think of the General 
Court, and how I should look in the great 
hall of the statehouse, marching up to my 
seat, to take possession. I determined right 
off, to have a bran new blue coat with brass 
buttons ; but on second thought^ I remembered 
hearing Colonel Crabapple say that the mem- 



IN THE GENERAL COURT. 21 

Ders wore their wrappers. So I concluded that 
my pepper and salt coat with the blue satinet 
pantaloons, would do very well. I decided 
though, to have my drab hat new ironed, and 
countermanded the orders for the cowhide 
boots, because kip-skin would be more gen- 
teel. In addition to this, because men in 
public life should be liberal, and make a more 
respectable appearance than common folks, I 
did n't hesitate long in making up my mind 
about having a watch chain and an imitation 
breast-pin. •' The check handkerchief," 
thinks I to myself, " is as good as new; and 
my pigtail queue will look splendidly if the 
old ribbon is a little scoured ? " 

It can't be described how much the affairs 
of the nation occupied my mind all the next 
day and three weeks afterwards. Ensign 
Shute came to see me about the Byfield pigs, 
but I couldn't talk of anything but my legis- 
lative responsibilities. •' The critters beat all 
natur' for squealing," says he, " but they cut 
capitally to pork." — "Ay," says I, "there 
must be a quorum before we can do any bus- 
iness." — ■ " The old grunter," says he, " will 
soon be fat enough to kill." — " Yes," says 1, 
" the speaker has the casting vote." — "Your 
new pig-pen," says he, " will hold 'em all." 



22 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

— ''I shall take my seat," says I, '' and be 
sworn in, according to the constitution." — 
*' What 's your opinion of corn-cobs?" says 
he. '' The governor and council will settle 
that," says I. 

The concerns of the whole commonwealth 
seemed to be resting all on my shoulders as 
heavy as a fiftysix, and everything I heard 
or saw made me think of the dignity of my 
office. When I met a flock of geese on the 
schoolhouse green with Deacon Dogskin's old 
gander at the head, " There," says I, " goes 
the speaker and all the honorable members." 
This was talked of up and down the town, 
as a proof that I felt a proper responsibility ; 
and Simon Sly said the comparison of the 
geese was capital. I thought so too. Every- 
body wished me joy of my election, and 
seemed to expect great things ; which I did 
not fail to lay to heart. So having the eyes 
of the whole community upon me, I could n't 
help seeing that nothing would satisfy them 
if I did not do something for the credit of the 
town. Squire Dobbs, the chairman of our 
selectmen, preached me a long lecture on 
responsibility ; " Lieutenant Turniptop," says 
he, "I hope you '11 keep up the reputation of 
Squashborough." 



IN THE GENERAL COURT. 23 

" I hope I shall, Squire," says I, holding 
up my head, for I felt my dignity rising. 

" It 's a highly responsible office, this go- 
ing to the Gineral Court," says he. 

''I 'm altogether aware of that," says I, 
looking serious ; " I 'm aware of that, totally 
and officially." 

'^ I 'm glad you feel responsible," says he. 

"I 'm bold to say that I do feel the respon- 
sibihty," says I — '' and I feel more and more 
responsible, the more I think of it." 

" Squashborough," says the Squire, " has 
always been a credit to the common- 
wealth — " 

^' Who doubts it? " says I. 

'' And a credit to the Gineral Court," says 
he. 

'^ Ahem ! " says I. 

" I hope you '11 let 'em know what 's 
what," says he. 

"T guess I know a thing or two," says I. 

" But," says the Squire, " a representative 
can't do his duty to his constituents without 
knowing the constitution. It 's my opinion 
you ought not to vote for the dog-tax." 

" That 's a matter that calls for due delib- 
eration," says I. So I went home and began 
to prepare for- my legislative duties. I studi- 



24 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

ed the statute on cart-wheels, and the act n 
addition to an act entitled an act. 

People may [sit in their chimney-corners 
and imagine it 's an easy thing to be a repre- 
sentative, but this is a very great mistake. 
For three weeks I felt like a toad under a 
harrow, such a weight of responsibility as I 
felt on thinking of my duties to my constitu- 
ents. But when I came to think how much 
I was expected to do for the credit -of the 
town, it was overwhelming. All the repre- 
sentatives in our part of the county had done 
great things for their constituents, and I was 
determined not to do less. I resolved, there- 
fore, on the very first consideration, to stick to 
the following scheme. 

I To make a speech. 

To make a motion for a bank in Squash- 
borough. 

I To move that all salaries be cut down one 

i half except the pay of the representatives. 
To second any motion for adjournment, — 
And 

I Always to vote against the Boston mem- 

I bers. 

As to the speech, though I had not exactly 
made up my mind about the subject of it, yet 
I took care to have it all written before hand. 



IN THE GENERAL COURT, 25 

This was not so difficult as some folks may 
think; for, as it was all about my constitu- 
ents and responsibility and Bunker Hill and 
heroes of seventysix and dying for liberty, it 
would do for any purpose with a few words 
tucked in here and there. After I had got it 
well by heart, I went down in Cranberry 
Swamp, out of hearing and sight of anybody, 
and delivered it off, to see how it would go. 
It went off in capital style till I got nearly 
through, when just as 1 was saying, " Mr 
Speaker, here I stand for the Constitution," 
Tom Thumper's old he-goat popped out of 
the bushes behind, and gave me such a butt 
in the rear that I was forced to make an ad- 
journment to the other side of the fence, to 
finish it. After full trial I thought best to 
write it over again, and put in more respon- 
sibility, with something about " fought, bled 
and died." 

When the time came for me to set off for 
Boston, you may depend upon it, I was all of 
a twitter. In fact I did not exactly know 
whether I was on my head or my heels. All 
Squashborough was alive : the whole town 
came to see me set out. They all gave me 
strict charge to stand up for my constituents 
and vote down the Boston members. I pro- 



26 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

mised them I would, '' for I 'm sensible of my 
responsibility," says I. I promised besides 
to move heaven and earth to do something 
for Squashborough. In short, I promised 
everything, because a representative could 
not do less. 

At last I got to Boston ; and being in good 
season, I had three whole days to myself be- 
fore the session opened. By way of doing 
business I went round to all the shops, pre- 
tending I wanted to buy a silk handkerchief. 
I managed it so as not to spend anything, 
though the shopkeepers were mighty sharp, 
trying to hook me for a bargain ; but I had 
my eye teeth cut, and took care never to offer 
within ninepence of the first cost. Sometimes 
they talked saucy in a joking kind of a way, 
if I happened to go more than three times to 
the same shop ; but when I told them I be- 
longed to the General Court, it struck them 
all of a heap, and they did not dare to do any- 
thing but make faces to one another. I think 
I was down upon them there. 

The day I took my seat was a day of all 
the days in the year ! I shall never forget it. 
I thought I had never lived till then. Giles 
Elderberry's exaltation when he was made 
hogreeve, was nothing to it. As for the pro- 



IN THE GENERAL COURT. 27 

cession — that beat cock-fighting ! I treated 
myself to half a sheet of gingerbread, for I felt 
as if my purse would hold out forever. How- 
ever, I can't describe everything. We were 
sworn in, and I took my seat, though I say it 
myself. I took my seat : all Boston was there 
to see me do it. What a weight of responsi- 
bihty I felt ! 

It beats all nature to see what a difficulty 
there is in getting a chance to make a speech. 
Forty things Avere put to the vote and passed 
without my being able to say a word, though 
I felt certain I could have said something upon 
every one of them. I had my speech all ready 
and was waiting for nothing but a chance to 
say '^ Mr Speaker," but something always put 
me out. This was losing time dreadfully — 
however I made it up seconding motions, for 
I was determined to have my share in the 
business, out of regard for my constituents. 
It 's true J seconded the motions on both sides 
of the question, which always set the other 
members a laughing, but says I to them, 
" That 's my affair, how do you know what 
my principles are ? " At last two great ques- 
tions were brought forward that seemed to be 
too good to lose. These were the Dogtown 
turnpike, and the Cart-wheel question. The 



28 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

moment I heard the last one mentioned, I felt 
convinced it was just the thing for me. The 
other members thought just so, for when it 
came up for discussion, a Berkshire member 
gave me a jog with the elbow, " Turniptop," 
says he, ' ' now is your time. Squashborough for 
ever !" No sooner said than done ; I twitched 
off my hat and called out " Mr Speaker !" 

As sure as you live, I had caught him at 
last ; there was nobody else had spoken quick 
enough, and it was as clear as preaching, I 
had the floor. "Gentleman from Squashbor- 
ough !'"' says he, — I heard him say it ! " Now," 
thinks I to myself, " I must begin, whether or 
no." " Mr Speaker," says I again, but I on- 
ly said it to gain time, for I could hardly be- 
lieve that I actually had the floor, and all the 
congregated wisdom of the commonwealth 
was listening and looking on ; the thought of 
it made me crawl all over. " Mr Speaker," 
says I, once more. Everybody looked round 
at me. Thinks I to myself a second time, 
" there's no clawing off, this hitch. I must 
begin ; and so here goes !" 

Accordingly I gave a loud hem ! and said 
"Mr Speaker," for the fourth time. "Mr 
Speaker," said I, "I rise to the question" — 
though it did not strike my mind that I had 



IN THE GENERAL COURT. 29 

been standing up ever since I came into the 
house. " I rise to this question, Mr Speak- 
er," says I. But to see how terribly strange 
some things work ! No sooner had J fairly rose 
to the question and got a chance to make my 
speech, than I began to wish myself a hun- 
dred miles off. Five minutes before, 1 was 
as bold as a lion, but now I should have been 
glad to crawl into a knot-hole. " Mr Speak- 
er, I rise to the question," says I : but I am 
bound to say that instead of rising, my voice 
began to fall. " Mr Speaker," said I again, 
" I rise to the question," but the more I rose 
to the question, the more the question seemed 
to fall away from me. And just at that min- 
ute, a little fat round-faced man with a bald 
head, that was sitting right before me, speaks 
to another member and says, " What squeak- 
ing fellow is that?" It dashed me a good 
deal and I don't know but I should have sat 
right down without another word, but Colo- 
nel Crabapple the member from Turkeytown, 
gave me a twitch by the tail of my wrapper, 
'• That 's right, Turniptop," says he, " give 
them the grand touch !" This had a migh- 
ty encouraging eifect, and so I hemmed 
and hawked three or four times, and at last 
made a beginning. 

'^ Mr Speaker,'^ says I, '* this i? asu' jec( for 



30 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

vital importance. The question is, Mr 
Speaker, on the amendment. I have a deci- 
ded opinion on that point, Mr Speaker. I 
am altogether opposed to the last gentleman, 
and I feel bound in duty to my constituents, 
Mr Speaker, and the responsibility of my of- 
fice, to express my mind on this question. 
Mr Speaker, our glorious forefathers fought, 
bled and died for glorious liberty. I am op- 
posed to this question, Mr Speaker, my con- 
stituents have a vital interest in the subject 
of cart-wheels. Let us take a retrospective 
view, Mr Speaker, of the present condition of 
all the kingdoms and tribes of the earth. 
Look abroad, Mr Speaker, over the wide ex- 
pansion of nature's universe beyond the blaz- 
ing billows of the Atlantic ! Behold Bona- 
parte going about like a roaring thunderbolt ! 
All the world is turned topsy-turvy, and there 
is a terrible rousing among the sons of men. 
— But to return to the subject, Mr Speaker. 
I am decidedly opposed to the amendm^ent : 
it is contrary to the principles of freedom and 
the principles of responsibility. Tell it to 
your children, Mr Speaker, and to your chil- 
dren's children, that freedom is not to be 
bartered like Esau for a mess of potash. 
Liberty is gthe everlasting birth-right of the 



IN THE GENERAL COURT. 31 

grand community of nature's freemen. 
Sir, the member from Boston talks of horse- 
shoes, but 1 hope we shall stand up for our 
rights. If we onl}^ stand up for our rights, 
Mr Speaker, our rights will stand up for us, 
and we shall all stand uprightly without 
shivering or shaking. Mr Speaker, these are 
awful times ; money is hard to get, whatever 
the gentleman from Rowley may say about 
pumpkins. A true patriot will die for his 
country. M^y we all imitate the glorious 
example and die for our country. Give up 
keeping cows ! Mr Speaker ! what does the 
honorable gentleman mean 7 Is not agricul- 
ture to be cultivated 1 He that sells his lib- 
erty, Mr Speaker, is worse than a cannibal, 
a hottentot or a hippopotamus. The member 
from Charlestown has brought his pigs to the 
wrong market. I stand up for cart-wheels 
and so do my constituents. When our coun- 
try calls us, Mr Speaker, with the voice of a 
speaking-trumpet, may we never be back- 
ward in coming forward : and all honest men 
ought to endeavor to keep the rising genera- 
tion from falling. Not to dwell upon this 
point, Mr Speaker, let us now enter into the 
subject : In the first place, " — 

Now it happened that just at this moment 



32 MY FIRST AND LAST SPEECH 

the little fat, bald-headed, round-faced man 
wriggled him round exactly in front of me, 
so that I could not help seeing him ; and just 
as 1 was saying '' rising generation," he twist- 
ed the corners of his mouth into a queer sort 
of a pucker on one side, and rolled the whites 
of his little grey, winking eyes right up in 
my face. The members all stared straight at 
us, and made a kind of a snickering cluck^ 
cluck^ cluck^ cluck, that seemed to run whist- 
ling over the whole house. I felt awfully 
bothered, I can't tell how, but it gave me 
such a jerk off the hooks that I could not re- 
member the next words : so I felt in my 
pocket for the speech — it was not there : — 
then in my hat,— it was not there : — then 
behind me, then both sides of me, but lo ! 
and behold it was not to be found. The next 
instant I remembered that I had taken it out 
of my hat in a shop in Dock Square that 
morning while I was comparing the four 
corners of my check handkerchief with a 
bandanna. That was enough, — I knew as 
quick as lightning that I was a gone goose. 
I pretended to go on with my speech, and 
kept saying, "rising generation, my constitu- 
ents, enter into the subject, Mr Speaker." 
But I made hawk's meat of it, you may de- 



IN THE GENERAL COURT. 33 

pend. Finally nobody could stand it any 
longer; the little fat man with the round face 
put his thumb to the side of his nose, and 
made a sort of twinkling with his fingers ; the 
speaker began to giggle, and the next min- 
ute the whole house exploded like a bomb 
shell. I snatched up my hat under cover of 
the smoke, made one jump to the door, and 
was down stairs before you could say " second 
the motion." 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 



When I [considered these things, I sighed and said within 
myselfj " Surely man is a broomstick ! " 

Swift's Meditations on a Broomstick. 



Doctor Johnson is known to have said he 
could make a capital book of the Life of a 
Broomstick. It is astonishing the book- 
making tribe have never taken this hint ; for 
nobody has ever written such a work, not- 
withstanding the fruitfukiess of the subject. 
Writers have given us the Uves of innumera- 
ble dunces, old grannies, fops, bores and do- 
littles : all sorts of nobodies and good-for- 
nothing two-legged creatures have had their 
memories embalmed in bad English and bal- 
derdash eloquence ; but hitherto no one ex- 
cept the Great Moralist seems to have been a- 
ware of the biographical capabilities of broom- 
sticks. As I have the honor, therefore of 
being born a broomstick, I shall proceed to 
relate the events of my life according to the 
most approved models of biographical com- 
position. 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 35 

Broomsticks, dear reader, are important 
things ; your wife has doubtless given you a 
hint of this before. The life of a broomstick 
must, in consequence, abound in striking 
events, and furnish the speculative philos- 
opher with topics for profound reflection. My 
family is ancient, for the pedigree can be 
traced to Noah, who, it is pretty certain, took 
a supply of broomsticks in the ark, well 
knowing he should have plenty of sweeping 
to do. This being settled, let none hereafter 
deny the antiquity of broomsticks. See the 
treatise of Maimonides ; de broomstickorum 
vetere prosapia^ cum notis Johannis Bambou- 
zelbergii^ edit. Lugduni B ifav. 1662. 

But to make a slight transition from Noah's 
ark to the county of Worcester in which 
place I first became a broomstick. T must 
begin my life by saying that I owe existence 
to a celebrated manufacturer of birchen com- 
modities, who lacking timber of his own, 
stole me in the shape of a saphng from the 
woods of one of his neighbors. After proper 
metamorphosis into the regular form of a 
household implement, I passed somewhat 
surreptitiously into the hands of a Connecti- 
cut pedler. To speak more distinctly, I was 
first stolen as stuff for making, and then sto- 



SB BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

len ready made. My readers, I dare say, 
have heard loose reports of this circumstance 
before. The fact is indubitable, and shows 
the strange vicissitudes to which pedlers and 
l^roomsticks are liable in this uncertain life. 

The pedler carried me to Boston, where he 
sold me with all his load to a grocer at the 
South End : here 1 remained on hand several 
weeks, till at length I was bought by the 

housemaid of a gentleman in street, 

and taken regularly into service. I blush to 
say that at my first entrance into public life, 
I was employed in all sorts of dirty work. 
I should certainly have suppressed this par- 
ticular, were it not that it offers a surprising 
coincidence with the career of so many great 
men of the present day. 

Such an outset, I need hardly say, did not 
please me at all. I was up betimes in the 
morning, travelled briskly through the entry, 
kitchen, yard and cellar, and then poked be- 
hind a door to rest. Day after day the same 
dull routine was repeated, and I began to 
think I should never know an adventure, or 
see anything of high life. Three months 
elapsed before I even got a peep into the par- 
lor. But an unlooked-for accident brought 
me to play a more important part in the do- 
mestic concerns of the house. 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 37 

The gentleman to whom I had the honor 
of belonging, was a young man who had met 
with great good luck, that is to say, he had 
married a fortune. His spouse was a lady of 
no great personal charms and considerably 
his superior in years. My gentleman, how- 
\ ever, having an empty purse and a fine figure, 
/very generously overlooked all objections 
j arising from the disparity of their ages, and 
I married the lady for love, — so he said, and 
I nobody contradicted him. The honey-moon 
passed delightfully, and all parties proclaimed 
it a blessed match. The lady was happy 
that she had such a fine, gay, pleasant, sensi- 
ble, good-natured husband. The husband 
was happy that he had so many bank shares 
and brick houses. This was surely a delight- 
ful prospect of life, but like many other de- 
lightful prospects, it came to nothing, to the 
utter astonishment of all concerned. 

One evening rather late. I was standing in 
a dark corner of the kitchen, in company 
with my two friends, the mop and the warm- 
ing-pan, when I heard the front door shut 
with more than common emphasis. About 
a quarter of an hour after this, Dolly the 
housemaid came running into the kitchen, 
and seizing hold of me, glided oflf on tiptoe 



38 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

through the entry. I had not time to conjec- 
ture what could be the occasion of this extra- 
ordinary movement, before I heard voices in 
a pretty exalted pitch in the adjoining room. 
Something had evidently taken place to dis- 
turb the domestic tranquillity of those sweet 
turtle-doves, our master and mistress, and 
Dolly having overheard enough to excite her 
curiosity, had crept to the parlor door to listen, 
takins: me with her as a sham, that she might 
pretend being about work, in case she should 
be caught eaves-dropping. So putting her 
ear to the door and holding her breath, she 
heard every syllable of what passed. 

My gentleman, it seems, had come home 
several hours later than he was expected, 
greatly to the disappointment of his better 
half, who, on the moment of his appearance, 
set upon him with reproaches for neglecting 
her. To my surprise, though probably not 
to hers, he replied in a manner that showed 
a very recent familiarity with the good crea- 
ture Champaigne. He was very talkative 
and dogmatical, and threw off all reserve. 

" Really, sir," said his wife, with as much 
sullenness in her looks as she had been able 
to call up in the three hours she had been 
brooding over her wrongs — " Really, sir, this 
is too bad." 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 39 

'' Too bad? my dear !" answered the gen- 
tleman with a show of the greatest amaze- 
ment, '^ too bad, my dear, what do you mean, 
my dear?" 

" Mean? sir," that is a pretty question^ a 
very pretty question, hah !" returned she, 
pretending to make beheve laugh. " A pretty 
question, what it means when folks complain 
of such treatment. But you grow worse and 
worse, sir, 't is the twentieth time, sir, the for- 
tieth time — the hundredth time that you 
have neglected me so, 'and affronted me so, 
and mortified me so !" Here she put her hand- 
kerchief to her eyes. 

^' My dear soul !" returned he in a very 
soothing tone, '' you are crazy ! How can 
you say I neglect you? Do n't I come home 
every day to dinner, except now and then." 

'^ Crazy !" exclaimed the offended fair one? 
^' it would not be surprising if such doings 
should drive a woman crazy. Sir, you neg- 
lect me shamefully ; you neglect your family, 
sir, let me tell you that ! and people know it, 
sir ; I am ashamed of you, sir." 

" You don't say so, my dear," retorted he 
with pretended earnestness : " ashamed of 
me? Why, I am not ashamed of you." 

" Ashamed of me !" interrupted his wife, 



40 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

and reddening at the insinuation, " what do 
you mean 7 But I see you care nothing about 
me ; — no, you care for nothing but to spend 
my money with a pack of low fellows." 

"Please to spare jour reflections upon the 
gentlemen of my acquaintance : you are no 
judge of character, sweet woman." 

'•Sir, I tell you I will bear it no longer;" 
replied the spouse, growing more and more 
passionate: "you are an unfeeUng creature 
and an ungrateful creature. I think I am en- 
titled to some respect, sir — consider your ob- 
ligations to me." 

" Obligations forsooth !" said the husband, 
beginning to feel his temper disturbed at this 
fling from his wife. " Heyday ! consider 
your obligations to me too." 

" What sir, obligations ! pray what obliga- 
tions ! Did n't 1 marry you, sir, when you 
had n't a cent in your pocket 1 Did n't I make 
a gentleman of you, sir? answer me that." 

" And did n't I marry you ma'am," re- 
turned the gentleman raising his voice, and 
growing more and more ruffled, " did n't I 
marry you when you was at the last point of 
desperation, with all the horrors of single 
blessedness staring you in the face !" 

*' 'T is false, sir !" exclaimed his lady with 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 41 

great violence. "I had a dozen offers — good 
offers, sir ; but I was fool enough to marry 
you, sir. I saved you from the deputy she- 
riff — you may thank me, sir, that you are 
not at this moment boarding at free cost in 
Ward No. 5." 

" Oho ! since you are come to that," said 
the gentleman in a very firm tone and pre- 
tending the greatest nonchalance, . " I think 
quite as much might be said on the other 
side; for let me tell you, old lady, a young 
fellow that has prospects can't be expected to 
throw himself away for nothing." 

To call a lady old, is an offence, says Cer- 
vantes, that none of the sex can forgive. It 
is the last thing indeed, which a middle-aged 
belle wishes to be reminded of Our lady 
was very touchy upon this point, and she 
burst out — 

"You are an ill-mannered fellow, sir; you 
are a brute and a barbarian. You mean to 
kill me with your vile behavior. I wish I may 
live a thousand years to vex you. I won't 
stay another moment in your company. Oh ! 
fie ! you wretch? " 

With this explosion of rage, she sprang 
from her seat and seizing the door with a 
most tremendous jerk, threw it open. Now 



42 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

all this was done so instantaneously that 
Dolly who was standing in breathless immo- 
bility, leamng against the outside, had not 
above three quarters of a second's warning 
of her approach, so that the door flying open 
in an instant, the mistress and maid came 
slap together with a momentum not much in- 
ferior to that of two locomotives on a rail- 
way. The awkwardness of the collision 
need not be described, but this was not the 
worst part of the affair. The lady's temper 
was none of the sweetest, and the quarrel 
with her husband had made her a hundred 
times more irritable than common. Enraged 
at the thought of having her family quarrels 
discovered, for she had pride as well as tem- 
per, she flew upon the luckless listener and 
snatching me from her hands before she 
could think of a word to say in her defence, 
gave her such a beating that poor Dolly roar- 
ed for help and bestowed internally ten 
thousand maledictions on that evil spirit of 
curiosity that had prompted her to busy her- 
self with the conjugal endearments of her 
betters. The husband was not displeased to 
find the storm diverted from himself to 
another object, but was at length obliged to 
interfere, lest the punishment should exceed 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 4^ 

the offence. He snatched me from the hands 
of his wife, and bade the kickless maid go 
about her business, and forbear eaves-drop- 
ping in future. But Dolly was not so easily- 
pacified. '^ She would n't stay another mo- 
ment in the house, not she. Folks need n't 
think they was to treat their helps like dogs, 
that they must n't. She was as good flesh 
and blood as any body, she 'd have 'em to 
know. Off she 'd go that instant, bag and 
baggage, and she 'd have the law on them for 
all their gentility." With these protestations, 
and a thousand others just hke them, accom- 
panied with divers tossings of the head and 
twistings of the nose, she left the house. 

The next morning beheld me travelling to 
Court street, where Dolly told her piteous 
tale to a lawyer and exhibited me in evidence. 
'' Here is the very broomstick to prove it, sir ; 
every word of it is true, and if you won't be- 
Heve me, you must believe the broomstick : 
two witnesses will hang anybody. If there 's 
law in the land 1 '11 have justice done for me 
and the broomstick." — " No doubt on't," re- 
plied the learned gentleman, " leave the 
broomstick with me, and I'll make a flourish 
with it to some purpose, but hark'ee, don't 
say anything of this affair to anybody else. 



44 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

You shall have justice done you, but leave it 
to me." Dolly went her way and the lawyer 

ran to my gentleman. " Mr ," said he, 

" this is an ugly affair of yours : could 'nt you 
make it up? The girl swears she '11 have it in 
the newspapers to-morrow. Now as a friend 
iio you I should be horrified to see such a 
scandal get abroad about a respectable family 
like yours ! I would not for a thousand dol- 
lars that the affair should get wind." These 
alarms had a great effect upon my master and 
mistress, who by this time had begun to en- 
tertain some cool reflections upon the doings 
of the last evening, and they inquired with 
great anxiety whether the matter could not 
be hushed up. " 'Tis the very thing Ih ave 
to propose," said the attorney, " the complain- 
ant has offered to compound for a considera- 
tion." — '' How much ?" asked the husband. — 
" Five hundred dollars," replied the man of 
law. " Five hundred ! " exclaimed the lov- 
ing couple at once, in the most dismal tone of 
astonishment. '^Ay," returned the peacema- 
ker, ^' but I beat her down to two hundred, 
fori told her she must be reasonable." — " The 
devil confound such reason !" exclaimed the 
gentleman; ''what, two hundred dollars for 
half a dozen thumps with a broomstick, — I 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 45 

won't pay it." " Why then, there's nothing 
more to be said," repUed the lawyer gravely, 
" and the matter must go before the court." 
This was an ugly thought to my gentleman. 
''Say a hundred and fifty," said he, "and 
done." My honest friend, the attorney, took 
a pinch of snuff, and after a few seconds hesi- 
tation replied — " Well, since you won't of- 
fer more, let me have the money and I'll try 
what can be done with her." Very reluctant- 
ly, my fine gentleman drew a check for the 
money, and the man of law departed, protest- 
ing that it grieved him to the soul, but he 
would make any sacrifice to save his friend's 
character. 

A few days after, came his client to inquire 
about her cause. She was directed to call 
again the next week. At the second call, the 
matter was postponed for a fortnight : the 
next time for three weeks ; and so on till the 
unlucky maid became pretty well tired of the 
law's delay. After a long time, he informed 
her that the case looked rather bad, and hint- 
ed that she had better try to make it up. 
Dolly who by this time no longer felt the 
smart of her bruises, and began to have fears 
that the case might go against her, readily 
listened to the suggestion and inquired how 



46 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

much she might hope to get as hush-money. 
*' I can't tell," repUed the conscientious gen- 
tleman, ^' but if you could get ten dollars, I 
should advise you as a friend to withdraw 
your action." " Ten dollars !" exclaimed the 
battered Abigail,— well, if you think 1 'd bet- 
ter " — " Really I do," replied he; ^' take my 
word as a friend, I wish to give you honest 
advice, — that 's always my rule." The re- 
sult of this negotiation was that the ten dol- 
lars were paid and so the matter ended, veri- 
I fying the old adage, "blessed are the makers 
I of peace, but cursed are the breakers of it." 
^ Meantime I was forgotten, and stood behind 
the lawyer's door for six months. What 
scenes I witnessed, are nothing to my present 
purpose, since I was rather a spectator than 
an actor in them. I became initiated into the 
mysteries of the legal profession, upon the 
philosophy of which I shall make no moral 
reflections from sheer inability, for the length 
and breadth of a lawyer's conscience are be- 
yond the capacity of any common broomstick 
to measure. But one day a certain customer 
of my master's, a rather unsophisticated wight, 
finding his pockets emptied of a swingeing 
sum by the ingenuity of this gentleman, stood 
aghast at the catastrophe, hardly wiUing to 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 47 

believe his senses' in evidence of such diaboli- 
cal impudence. Finding however, that it was 
" no mistake," he moved towards the door, 
determined to say his " good bye " in a style 
that would ring like a clap of thunder. 

"I'll tell you what I think of you, sir," 
said he in a solemn voice, and holding the 
door in one hand, ready to fire and run. 

" Well," said the man of law, very com- 
posedly. 

" I think you a very great rascal !" 

Expecting to see the enraged attorney ex- 
plode like a bomb-shell at this attack, he stood 
a moment to enjoy the effect, but what words 
can describe his astonishment, when his an- 
tagonist answered with the most gentle 
smile — 

" Pooh ! pooh, I 've been told that a hun- 
dred times." 

This was too much ; flesh and blood could 
not bear it. " I'll have it out of his hide, " 
thought the unlucky litigant, and at that mo- 
ment his eye fell on me who stood close at 
hand, as it were inviting him. to seize and lay 
on. In a trice he clutched me by the end and 
made so brisk a flourishing over the sconce 
of his legal friend that he roared with more 
eloquence than he ever did to a jury. The 



48 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

neighbors running in at the noise, put an end 
to this administration of justice, and the assail- 
ant was tumbled down stairs into the street, 
where he was seized by a constable. For my 
part I was carried by that official to his own 
house in order to be forthcoming when the in- 
dictment for the assault should be drawn. 
But just after this, certain affairs of the afore- 
said attorney coming to light which were 
likely to render his stay in Boston inconve- 
nient, he disappeared between two days, and 
the prosecution was dropped. 

In the constable's house T was put to vari- 
ous uses : the most worthy of mention was 
that of being ridden as a horse by one of his 
boys. Having performed this office one af- 
ternoon, I was left by the urchin in the street, 
where I expected to pass the night : but about 
ten o'clock in the evening I was aroused from 
a profound re very by a sound of footsteps 
breaking the lonely silence of the obscure lane 
where I lay. A figure approached with looks 
bent on the ground and cautiously peeping 
into every corner he passed, as if hunting for 
rags and old shoes. By the light of the moon 
he espied me as I lay in the gutter, .viid ea- 
gerly caught me up. We passed up the street 
and down another, in at this lane and out at 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 49 

that, my master picking up various valuable 
commodities in his way, till he found his 
pockets stuffed with old newspapers, bits of 
leather, marrow-bones, broken glass, rope 
yarn, old iron, cork stopples, and odds and 
ends of ev* ry article of domestic economy that 
can find its way into a dust-heap. 

The individual into whose hands I had 
thus'fallen, was a lean, scarecrow looking per- 
sonage, in a threadbare coat and an old rusty 
hat, yet so far from being a beggar or the 
keeper of an old junk shop, was one of the 
richest men in Boston, who turned an honest 
penny by accommodating gentlemen in pinch- 
ing circumstances with ready cash, at a rate 
of interest corresponding to the scarcity of the 
commodity. These transactions were com- 
monly done in a sly place not far from Faneuil 
Hall market, for this obliging old soul did not 
care to have his liberality obtruded upon the 
notice of the public, and always manifested 

great uneasiness when the folks in the 

Insurance Office dropped hints about letting 
money at ten per cent, a month. However, 
that is neither here nor there. It was late at 
night, and he trudged down street with me to 
the market, where my gentleman began to 
peer about among the lobsters, and after in- 
4 



50 , BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

5jyecting several lots, at last pitched upon one 
just about spoiling, for which he ofFered half 
price as it was a hot night. The bargain was 
concluded after some higgling, the purchaser 
upon a second examination, insisting upon a 
further deduction of two cents in consequence 
of the deficiency of a claw. 

My master wrapped his purchase up safe 
in an old newspaper and sat off homeward. 

We entered the yard of a house in street, 

and he bolted the gate very carefully behind 
him and took us into the kitchen, where we 
found his wife sitting by the light of the small- 
est of all tallow candles. " Cre-ation ! ma'am !" 
he exclaimed, "what now? what now? — 
Burning out light to waste in this manner ! 
What upon earth is the meaning of all this ?" 

" Nothing, Mr Gripps, but waiting for Isaac, 
the boy has n't got home yet," replied his 
wife. 

" What ! what ! what 's that you say 7 not 
got home yet? Half after ten, and not home 
yet ! Cre-ation ! the creature 's bewitched !" 

" As sure as you live, it's true ! MrGripps, 
and yet I gave him a strict charge to be home 
in season," returned she. 

"So did I — so did I." said the old miser, 
beginning to work himself up into a passio^. 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 51 

'^ How many times 1 've told him so ! This 
won't do, this won't do ! Let him go to bed 
in the dark. Shan't have candles to burn to 
waste. Go to ruin hand over fist ! — Cre-a- 
tion !" So saying he opened his bundle and 
laid the lobster very carefully upon the dres- 
ser. 

" There !" he exclaimed, fixing his httle gray 
bargain-making eyes upon the choice morsel 
with a look of mingled resignation and sor- 
row. '' There 's a dinner for Wednesday, cost 
ten cents! — would n't take less for it — ten 
cents ! Ugh ! Souse it in vinegar and it '11 be 
sure to keep : 't will make two good dinners 
and something to save besides : we can cer- 
tainly make it last till Friday; why not 7 
why not?" 

"Why, Mr Gripps," replied his wife, 
" there 's nothing for dinner tomorrow; you 
know it really can't last till Friday." 

" Ods ! my life ! " he exclaimed in the 
greatest astonishment, " nothing for dinner 
tomorrow? what! all the tom-cods gone? 
Cre-ation ! " 

" All ate up but tha one you saved for 
supper, and what do you think, Mr Gripps? 
I verily believe Tim Dobson's old cat has 
stole it, for I have n't seen hide nor hair of it 
since the morning !' 



52 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

" Cre-ation ! " exclaimed old Gripps, " that 
thief of a cat '11 be the rnin of me ! Steals 
all our fish — steals all our liver — won't 
have her about the yard — I '11 kill her ! I '11 
kill her ! Won't have her stealing here — 
Tell Dobson to keep his cats at home. Drive 
her away ! 'scat her away — ■ won't have her 
stealing here ! Creation ! "' 

Here the old miser rolled up his eyes and 
gave a most rueful groan as he thought of 
the alarming audacity of cats and the irreco- 
verable loss of his tom-cod. Then shewing 
me to his wife, his features relaxed a little, 
and he exclaimed in a tone of great satisfac- 
faction, " Nice broomstick ; nice broomstick ; 
take care on't, take care on't — come in course 
by and bye." Then depositing me very 
carefully in a corner, he disburthened himself 
of the trumpery he had picked up, launching 
out into praises of every article, and packing 
them away with heaps already collected. Af- 
ter which he crept off to bed, taking care to 
put out the light and hide the candle, that 
there might be no further extravagant con- 
sumption of tallow. 

It would have been worth any miser's 
money to see the domestic economy of my 
master's establishment. He was a saving 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 53 

hunks, that had made his own fortune and 
knew what money was worth. He began 
life with a peck of apples and three quarts of 
vinegar which served him to set up what he 
called a wine cellar in Ann street. Here he 
drudged for some years, and by looking out 
for the main chance, doing here a little and 
there a little, and losing no chance of turning 
a penny, he contrived by hook and by crook, 
to emerge into State street, where he realized 
his hundred thousand, by practices which 
need not be explained to those who know the 
necessities of men in business who have notes 
to pay. No man ever had a greater horror 
of parting with his money. His house looked 
like the domain of famine, though he was 
always talking of living comfortably. To 
do him justice, his family enjoyed all the 
comfort, which lie within the reach of those 
who are debarred the use of fire, hghts and 
provisions. His back-logs were always soak- 
ed in water and the candle ends were care- 
fully locked up for fear they should be eaten. 
It is hardly necessary to particularize the 
daily events of my life while I staid in this 
same kitchen. I saw nobody save the old 
miser, his wife and son. They lived for the 
most part, upon tom-cods fried in water, with 



54 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

now and then a tid-bit in the shape of a scrap 
of meat, bought a good pennyworth in the 
afternoon of a hot day, when rapidly becom- 
ing an unsaleable commodity. Cabbage- 
leaves and turnip-tops slily filched from carts 
and stalls, siij: plied greens free of cost, and 
sometimes a stray carrot or a vagabond po- 
tato found its way into his pocket, which 
gave an additional luxury to the dinner table. 
Never was such a lonely dismal place for a 
kitchen as ours. Rats there were none ; no- 
body had ever heard of such things on our 
premises. Three flies came in at the window 
one summer afternoon, and were found dead 
a week afterwards, — doubtless from starva- 
tion. Some tradition existed of a spit and a 
tin kitchen, but it had grown faint through 
lapse of years, and nothing was known of 
them with certainty. The old miser's clothes 
never wore out, though always threadbare; 
they were constantly receiving additions from 
shreds and patches picked up in his nightly 
wanderings, and grew rather thick than thin 
from age. He had an old plush waistcoat, 
all rusty and ragged, which he called his 
" tax waistcoat," because he wore it regularly 
once a year, when he visited the Assessors, to 
complain of his overtaxation, hoping that 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 55 

such " looped and window'd wretchedness " 
as the venerable tatters of this garment dis- 
played, might melt the flinty hearts of Sam- 
uel Norwood, Henry Bass aud Thomas Jack- 
son, — '' albeit unused to the melting mood " — 
into a more moderate estimation of his real 
and personal estate. But it does not appear 
that this ingenious manoeuvre ever succeeded. 
I stood undisturbed in a corner of the 
kitchen for some weeks, as it may readily be 
supposed there was very little use for my ser- 
vices in a house where no article of furniture 
was put into unnecessary wear. The doors 
were always shut to keep out visitors, and 
the windows were shut to keep out cats. 
But one afternoon Old Gripps had made a 
magnificent purchase of an eel for his dinner 
the next day ; it hung in the chimney corner, 
and the window, by accident, was open. The 
cat was prowling about the yard, and dis- 
covered by the scent that the miser's kitchen 
actually contained something to eat. Nobody 
was stirring upon the premises, and the cat 
ventured to thrust her head in at the window ; 
not a soul was to be seen in the kitchen, the 
eel was in plain sight and could be reached 
by a smart jump. 



56 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

A whisker first and then a claw, 

With many an ardent wish, 
She stretched in vain to reach the prize, 
What starving throat can food despise ? 

What cat 's averse to fish ? 

No sooner thought than done : she bound- 
ed into the room, made a snap at the eel, 
and was in the act of retreating with the 
prize when the old miser opened the door. 
" Cre-ation ! " he exclaimed, running to the 
window and clapping it down to cut oflf the 
cat's retreat. "Thief of a cat! I'll crack 
your bones for you ! Stop, there ! Stop, there ! 
whisht! scat! scat! oh! you thief!" At 
the same time snatching me from the corner 
he began to lay about him like mad. The 
cat finding her retreat by the window cut off, 
made a bolt through the door into the entry, 
holding fast by the eel in her escape. The 
miser pursued her, banging the floor right and 
left with his broomstick, and exclaiming in 
a great rage, " Cre-ation ! Oh you thief! I'll 
crack your bones! Thief! thief! thief! 
'scat ! 'scat ! stop there ! stop there ! whisht ! 
siss ! siss ! cahah ! cahah ! whisht ! whisht ! 
drop that eel ! drop that eel ! caa ! caa ! caa ! 
drop that eel, I say !" But the cat was a 
veteran marauder, and held fast by the eel, 
scampering hither and thither across the en- 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 57 

try, determined to save her hide and bacon 
too if possible ; but finding all egress by the 
door prohibited, she bounced up the stairs. 
The old miser followed her, striking short of 
the end of her tail at every step and bawling 
'Stop that cat! stop that cat! a thief! a 
thief! caa ! caa! drop that eel! drop that 
eel, I say !" In this manner he chased her 
into the garret, where she bolted through a 
broken square in the window, and both eel 
and cat were lost to all pursuit. 

The unfortunate miser stood astounded at 
this unexpected escape. The broomstick 
dropped from his hand and he remained 
transfixed, with gaping mouth, staring eyes 
and the most dolorous contortion of visage. 
After exclaiming '' Cre-ation !" twenty times 
over, he crept sorrowfully down stairs, deter- 
mined to nail the kitchen window fast down 
and prevent the repetition of such a disaster. 
In the confusion of his intellects caused by 
this overwhelming calamity, he quite forgot 
the broomstick, and I was left on the garret 
floor. 

Here I should have remained undisturb- 
ed for a long time, had the affairs of the na- 
tion gone on prosperously ; but the great com- 
mercial catastrophe which shook all the 



59 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

United States, also shook me out of the gar- 
ret window : — even broomsticks must suffer 
when empires go to ruin. This strange event 
was brought about in the following manner. 
Old Gripps was well rewarded by the 
bounty of nature for his benevolent qualities. 
He was blessed with a spendthrift, rantipole 
son, who seemed to be sent into the world for 
the express purpose of squandering the money 
which the parsimony of his father had so 
painfully acquired. This prodigal disposition 
had lately increased to an alarming extent. 
At first, he had refused to wear old clothes 
bought at the rag-fair of Brattle street : next 
he found fault with his victuals, and pre- 
sently wanted money to spend ! Nothing 
could check his wasteful career but the lack 
of cash, a commodity which I need not say 
was pretty securely guarded in the house. 
He nevertheless contrived, by various man- 
oeuvres, to filch small sums now and then,* 
the enjoyment of which only whetted his 
appetite for more. The youth, finding him- 
self pinched by the niggardly economy of his 
father, lost all scruple as to appropriating 
whatever cash he could lay his hands on. 
The father, knowing this, was anxiously on 
his guard, and a very sharp game was played 
between them. 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 59 

For some time cash had been scarce with 
the young man ; the miser had carefully 
lodged every dollar in the bank, so that when 
his son came to pick his pockets at night, he 
seldom found above a quarter of a dollar at a 
time. But just after the adventure of the 
cat and the eel, happened the great stoppage 
of specie payments. Now old Squaretoes 
chanced, to his great delectation, on the 
morning of that very day, to get possession 
of a large sum in specie, which, when the 
banks stopped, he determined to keep by him 
and turn to good account by selling it at a 
huge premium. He accordingly had it con- 
veyed home at an hour when his son was 
absent ; and not finding his own desk or 
closet safe enough for such a precious deposit, 
as young hopeful could pick locks on oc- 
casion, he had hid the strong box in a sly 
corner of the garret, where it remained un- 
suspected by any one. After a while, how- 
ever, the ingenious youth, led by surmises, 
tracked his father undiscovered to the spot, 
and got ft sight of the hidden treasure. 

My master, like most other careful old 
gentlemen, made a practice every night of 
seeing the doors made fast, and every body 
safe in bed before he retired to rest. The 



60 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

slightest noise in the night alarmed him, as 
he always thought of his gold, and dreamed 
of thieves. About eleven o'clock, when the 
whole house had been for some time in per? 
feet silence, I was surprised to hear footsteps 
stealthily approaching, and see the gHmmer 
of a light. Our young gentleman made his 
appearance, walking on tiptoe, and holding 
his breath. The secret nook was explored 
and the strong box drawn out. The eyes of 
the liberal young man sparkled as he felt the 
weight of the treasure ; he imagined that so 
large a sum might spare a part, and nothing 
be missed, a hasty method of reasoning which 
folks of his stamp are very apt to fall into: 
A handful of keys were applied one after the 
other to the lock, but not one of them would 
fit. To break the lock would make a noise, 
and the only method left was to force the lid 
up by a wedge, widely enough to abstract 
some of the contents. Nothing of the kind 
had been prepared, but as 1 happened to lie 
in sight, he seized me forthwith, and by the 
help of his penknife, sharpened my small end 
into a wedge. With this instrument the lid 
was raised an inch or two and he greedily 
thrust in his hand, but, woful to relate ! at 
that moment I snapped short and left him in 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 61 

the lurch ! A steel trap could not have done 
the thing more neatly. 

At the noise made by this disaster, and the 
sudden scream which the pain of his impris- 
oned wrist extorted from the luckless adven- 
turer, the old miser awoke and began to bawl 
*' Murder ! fire ! thieves ! " Then running 
in all haste to the scene of the alarm, he 
beheld his darling son with his hand in the 
casket that contained his beloved treasure. 
This sight roused him to fury. He snatched 
me from the floor, and bestowed so violent a 
cudgelling upon the back of the delinquent, 
that his wife, who presently came up, fearing 
the blows were killing the young man, 
snatched me from the hands of her husband 
and threw me out the window. 

How long my young friend staid in his 
trap I never learned. For my own part, I 
found myself on the roof, where I slid end- 
wise over the eaves, and then shot diagonally 
into the window of the house opposite. Now 
in this room sat a couple of persons rather 
oddly situated. Let me take up their story 
a point or two backward. A middle-aged 
old gentleman it was, with a middle-aged 
young lady, — the reader understands me. 
This middle-aged old gentleman was a pre- 



$2 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

cise, fidgetty, touchy, ceremonious personage, 
as prim and old-bachelorish as the primmest 
of all old bachelors, and was paying his 
addresses to the middle-aged young lady, who 
had as little objection to a husband as it was 
possible for a middle-aged lady to have. This 
was a courting night ; the courtship was not 
so far advanced as to have removed all atten- 
tion to punctilios between them, and they sat 
upon the sofa in an attitude as formal and ' 
starched as a couple of effigies in the New 
England Museum. By and by the conversa- 
tion began to flag, as it is apt to do on such 
occasions : the house was silent ; they had 
discussed the news and talked the weather 
round and round till it would not shift any 
more. There was nothing more left to talk 
about ; pity that lovers could not start a topic 
sufficiently animating to keep them awake, 
but such is the fact : the gentleman began 
soon to yawn, and as yawning, like love or 
the measles, is contagious, the lady began to 
yawn too. What will you have 7 — in half 
an hour they were both fast asleep ! 

Now I should have observed before, our 
prim, precise, touchy, fidgetty, middle-aged 
old bachelor had the misfortune to lose all his 
hair, and wore a handsome scratch ; but this 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 63 

was known only to himself, and he designed 
to keep the secret, and carry it with him to 
his grave. Nothing gave him so much anxi- 
ety as the apprehension that this might be 
discovered, for he had set his heart on pre- 
serving the reputation of his youthful locks. 
He had dropped no Mnt, of course, to the 
lady, that in case she pulled his hair for him, 
something might surprise her, and his pre- 
caution not to endanger such a discovery, 
added not a little to the circumspection of his 
manners in her company. 

As this loving couple lay fast asleep, one 
at each end of the sofa, I burst in at the win- 
dow, and came end first, souse upon the old 
bachelor's nose ! He uttered a loud scream 
and sprang up, tossing his wig off at a single 
jerk. The lady awoke at the scream, and 
started up and screamed likewise. The gen- 
tleman stared in astonishment at the lady, 
imagining it was she who had struck him. 
The lady fixed her eyes in astonishment and 
terror upon the gentleman, unable to conceive 
the cause of his exclamation, his frightened 
looks, or the sudden metamorphose of his 
head. The next moment the gentleman was 
aware of the loss of his wig ; then surprise, 
astonishment, mortification, embarrassment, 



64 BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 

fright and ten thousand indescribable imagin- 
ings came over him in an overwhelming 
cloud. He stood as if thunderstruck, without 
the power to utter a syllable. Now the lady- 
screamed again in good earnest, for she was 
fully persuaded he was out of his wits. The 
noise awoke everybody in the house, who 
came rushing in tumult into the room. The 
sight of these intruders brought the bewilder- 
ed man a little to his senses. He caught up 
his wig, and clapping it upon his head, the 
wrong side before, rushed in speechless amaze- 
ment and vexation from the house. 

The lady, as in duty bound, immediately 
fainted away : and when she came to herself, 
she shed, with the greatest propriety, a con- 
siderable quantity of tears. The following 
day was passed in losing all appetite for 
victuals and in sighing profoundly. As for 
the gentleman, he set out upon a distant jour- 
ney without delay, and has not yet return- 
ed. Should the sequel of the affair ever come 
to light, I shall certainly make it public, for it 
must interest all true lovers. 

I have not space to detail the adventures 
that befell me after this occurrence ; but I 
continued to play my part in all sorts of 
strangle conjunctures. I have passed through 



BIOGRAPHY OF A BROOMSTICK. 65 

the hands of four snappish old curmudgeons, 
nine scolding wives, three dogmatical school- 
masters, and thirteen desperate old maids, — 
in all of which I did effectual service. I have 
caused seventeen bloody noses, twelve pair of 
battered shins, and ten black and blue shoul- 
ders ; I have banged twentyseven very thick 
skulls, given two dozen pokes in the ribs, 
made thirteen men and women cry murder I 
broken off two matches, and caused the death 
of one half of a human being, in the shape of 
a dandy with two daubs of tallowed hair 
plastered on his temples. This last exploit 
indeed is not much, but take them all togeth- 
er, I really think they are something — for a 
broomstick. Many a blockhead has written 
his own life. Let this be my apology. 

The world, 't is true, 



Was made for blockheads. — and for broomsticks too. 



ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. 



BY BOANERGES BURSTALL. 

Stupendous Pole !— thou walking-stick of Time ! 

Thou giant flag- staff in empyreal air ! 
Throned in Antarctic solitude sublime, 

Portentous mystery ! what dost thou do there ? 

Ly'st thou enchain'd in that benighted sea? 

Sleep'st thou in lullaby of whistling thunders ? 
O Pole! in frenzy when I think of thee, 

I think — I think — unutterable wonders ! 

There dost thou sit, unseen, untouch'd, unshaken, 
A thousand sea-calves roar at thee in vain ; 

Ten thousand bears in vain their growls awaken, 
And thrice ten thousand whales spout up the foaming main 

Shouldst thou, O stsdfast Pole ! desert thy station, 
New Zealand's coasts would tremble at the sight, 

The Hindoo tawnies quake in consternation, 
And sable Hottentots turn pale with fright. 

Shouldst thou break loose in some stupendous thaw, 
Leap to the North, and kiss thy Arctic brother, 

Then sea and land, " in elemental war," 
As poets say, would make a " dreadful pother." 



ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. 67 

Hark ! hear we not the South Sea islands rushing 
Through Behring's Straits which vainly bid them stand, 

There goes New Holland, old Spitzbergen crushing, 
Cape Horn runs butting against Newfoundland ! 

I see old Neversink falling away, 

And B'wker Hill upset in Lake Champlain, 
I see Gibraltar skate through Baffin's Bay, 

And Cuba scouring o'er the State of Maine. 

Here, huge sea-serpents twist their tails on high, 
And shoals of frighted porpoises are dashing; 

There great leviathans and little fry, 
Penobscot shad and Norway kraken splashing. 

Six waterspouts stream up Wakulla fountain, 
Thund'ring from Pasquotank to Tombigbee, 

Rhode Island jumps astride of Saddle Mountain 
And canters down the Falls of Genesee ! 

The Blue Ridge tumbles o'er the western prairie, 
And pounds the buffaloes with desperate slaughter ; 

Now strong Madeira dashes Grand Canary, 
And now up hill, good Lord ! runs Taunton water ! 

Behold Bermuda burst his rocky tether, 

And rush upon Cape Cod in roaring war ! 
And there the cities all go smash together, 

Boston and Paris, Bungtown and Bangor 1 

The moon blows up, the fix'd stars run away, 

Earth, sun and comets into chaos swing ! 
'T is done ! the skies come tumbling down ! — but stay -*• 

It is not done, because there 's no such thing. 

No ! mortal sight is happily a stranger 
To all the horrors of the astounding scene ; 

Fate has look'd out in time to spy the danger, 
And placed the equinoxial line between. 



68 ODE TO THE SOUTH POLE. 

While stand the mountains, the South Pole will stand, 
When fall the mountains, the South Pole will fall, 

New Holland, Java and Van Dieman's Land, 
And Owhyhee and South Sea Islands all. 

Then fare thee well, dread Pole, the very notion. 
Curdles my blood with horrifying chill. 

Do n't think of such tremendous locomotion. 
But fare thee well, South Pole, and stand stock-still! 



THE AGE OF WONDERS. 

I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. 

Twelfth Night. 

My neighbor over the way, Colonel Swal- 
lovvmore, thinks himself born in the age of 
wonders : — and no wonder he thinks so, for 
he reads the newspapers and believes them ! 
It is astonishing how gravely the Colonel 
gulps down every crude lump of monstrous 
fudge the papers contain. Sea-serpents, 
crook-necked squashes, consumption cured, 
talking pigs and three-legged cats, are nothing 
to an appetite like his. He believes election- 
eering speeches and predictions of political 
quidnuncs. All is fish that comes to his net. 
" These are times ! Mr Titterwell, these are 
times indeed ! " says he to me with a most 
rueful visage, as he lays down the newspa- 
per — " What are we coming to! People have 
got to such a pass ! Something is certainly 
going to happen before long. I 'm really, 
really frightened to think of it. There never 



70 THE AGE OF WONDERS. 

were snch doings in my day. Positively 
I 've got so now I an't surprised at any 

thing ! " — And so he shakes his head, hitch- 
es np his breeches, sticks his spectacles 
higher up his nose, and reads the wonders of 
the day over again. 

Twentyeight several times has this country 
been irretrievably ruined since I knew the 
Colonel. Seven times has the world come 
quite to an end. Nineteen times have we 
had the hardest winter ever known within 
the memory of the oldest inhabitant. Twenty- 
one times there never was seen such a back- 
ward spring. Fortyseven times the approach- 
ing session of Congress has been one of un- 
common interest ; and thirteen thousand nine 
hundred and sixtysix times has death snatch- 
ed away the best man upon earth, leaving 
mortals inconsolable and society with an 
immense void. The mental agitations he 
has undergone in pondering upon the " won- 
derful wonders" that spring up as plenty as 
grasshoppers in this wonderful age. are not 
to be described; for the Colonel takes an im- 
mense interest in public affairs, and cannot 
see the universe go to ruin about his ears 
without pangs of sympathy. Whatever 
molehill he stumbles upon, he makes a moun- 



THE AGE OF WONDERS. 71 

tain of it. He thought the Salem mill-dam 
absolutely necessary to the balance of power, 
and was certain that the bridge over Peg's 
Run was the only means of saving the nation. 
He went to bed in a great fright on reading 
in the paper that Emerson's Spelling-book 
would overthrow the liberties of the country ; 
and he was struck with the deepest alarm 
when he heard of the feud that had broken 
out between the Houses of Industry and 
Reformation about a cartload of chips. I 
shall never forget the anxiety that beset him 
last summer when the City Council could not 
come to a choice about the Superintendent of 
Drains. The newspapers were full of the 
affair, and the Colonel, 1 verily believe, would 
have worried himself into a nervous fever had 
this alarming schism between the two bran- 
ches of the city government been carried 
much farther. 

" A strange affair, Mr Titter well, a very 
mysterious affair," said he. " There are 
some dark, under-ground manoeuvres going 
on in this matter, depend upon it ; and really 
the Mayor and Aldermen" here he turn- 
ed up the whites of his eyes and shook his 
head. Heaven only knows what he thought 
of those great dignitaries. However, the af- 



72 THE AGE OF WONDERS. 

fair of the drains got through without an 
great catastrophe to folks above ground thai 
ever I could learn, and the Colonel's conster- 
nation subsided for that time. 

All the world were going mad the other 
day about white mustard seed. "Pray Col- 
onel," said Ij '* what is white mustard seed 
to you or me? Can't we eat our bread and 
butter, and sleep till six in the morning, 
without troubling our heads about white 
mustard seed? Did n't we fight the battles 
of (he revolution without white mustard seed? 
Did n't Samson carry off the gates of Gaza 
without white mustard seed? Did n't your 
blessed old grandmother knit stockings and 
live to the age of ninety without white mus- 
tard seed? Then what 's the use of minding 
the dolts in the newspapers who tell you that 
white mustard seed is better than meat, drink 
and sunshine, and that we shall all die un- 
timely deaths unless we take white mustard 
seed?" 

The Colonel could not understand it: — 
it was a great mystery indeed, — but the 
newspapers were full of it, and he was con- 
vinced white mustard seed had something in 
it, that would come out in due time. White 
mustard seed, however, has had its day ; and 



THE AGE OF WONDERS. 73 

the Colonel has probably taken to saw-dust, 
as I heard him talk of Dr Graham last week. 
But of all mortals the Colonel is ihe most 
prone to sympathize Avith the unfortunate 
public upon the loss of great men. I popped 
in upon him the day before yesterday, and 
found him lamenting a huge public calamity. 
Three great men had fallen in Israel : — an 
eminent clergyman, an eminent country re- 
presentative, and an eminent dealer in salt 
fish on Long wharf. The Colonel was triply 
dolorous upon the matter; society, business, 
politics, had suffered an immense loss, — a 
loss incalculable, irreparable, and so forth. 
I assured the Colonel there was no great 
cause for apprehension, for the world was 
pretty sure to turn round once in tvventyfour 
hours, whether great men died or lived. 
"The fact is, Colonel," said I, "great men 
may die as fast as they please for aught I 
care. I have never been frightened by the 
death of one of them since an adventure that 
happened to me in my ninth year when I 
Uved in the country." 

" What is that 7 " asked the Colonel. 

"I'll tell you," said I. 

*' On a certain day, — a day never to be for- 
gotten by me, news arrived in town that the 



74 THE AGE OF WONDERS. 

Governor was dead. No sovereign prince, 
pontiff or potentate on the face of the earth, 
ever appeared so gigantic and formidable to 
my childish eyes, as that harmless gentleman 
the Governor of Massachusetts. Imagine the 
shock occasioned by this announcement ! 
Straightway the bells began tolling, people 
collected in groups, quidnuncs scoured from 
place to place, gossips chattered, children 
gaped in dumb astonishment, and old women 
with dismal faces ran about croaking ' the 
Governor is dead !' To me these things 
seemed to betoken the general wreck of na- 
ture, for how the order of the universe could 
subsist after the death of the Governor, was 
beyond my comprehension. I expected the 
sun and moon to fall, the stars to shoot from 
their spheres, and my grandfather's mill-pond 
to upset. The horrible forebodings under 
which I lay down to sleep that night, are not 
to be described, and it was a long time ere I 
could close my eyes. In the morning I was 
awakened by a dreadful rumbling noise. 
' The Governor is dead !' I exclaimed, start- 
ing up in a terrible fright. The noise contin- 
ued : I listened, and discovered it to be nothing 
more than my old grandmother grinding 
coffee ! 



THE AGE OF WONDERS. 75 

" The effect of this prodigious anticlimax 
can hardly be imagined; never in my life 
was I so puzzled and confounded as at the 
first moment of this discovery. ' What !' 
said I to myself, ' is the Governor dead and 
yet people grind cofiee ? — then it seems we 
are to eat our breakfast just as if nothing had 
happened. Is a great man of no more con- 
sequence than this?' A new ray of light 
broke in upon me; I fell to pondering upon 
the occurrence, and five minutes' pondering 
completely demolished the power supreme 
with which many a pompous owl had stalked 
through my imagination. From that mo- 
ment, governors, town clerks, selectmen, rep- 
resentatives, justices of peace, and great peo- 
ple of every degree, lost nine tenths of their 
importance in my eyes, for I plainly saw the 
world could do without them. 

" How often in after life have I applied the 
moral of this incident ! How much moving 
eloquence and dire denunciation have I pass 
ed by with the remark — ' That is a great 
affair, no doubt, but it won't stop a coffee 
mill' " 



;( 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

A CHAPTER FROM THE HISTORY OF THE 
TOWN OF PIGWACKET. 

My second cousin by the mother's side, 
Benjamin Blackletter, A. M., who was born 
and Uved all his Ufetime in the ancient town 
of Pigwacket, has compiled with scrupulous 
accuracy the annals of that venerable town 
in three volumes folio, which he proposes to 
publish as soon as he can find a Boston book- 
seller who will undertake the job. I hope 
this will be accomplished before long, for 
Pigwacket is a very interesting spot, though 
not very widely known. It is astonishing 
what important events are going on every 
day in odd corners of this country which the 
world knows nothing about. When I read 
over these trusty folios, which bear the title, 
" The General History of the Town of 
Pigwacket, from its first settlement until the 
present day^ comprising an authentic relation 
of all its civil, military, ecclesiastical, financial 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL, 77 

and statistical concerns^ compHed from origi- 
nal records^ etc.'''' and see the great deeds that 
have been done in that respectable town, and 
the great men that have figured therein, and 
refl'Ct that the fame thereof, so far from ex- 
tending to the four corners of the earth, has 
hardly penetrated as far as Boston, I heave a 
sigh for mortal glory, and exclaim in the 
words of Euripides, 

Bi 8s yijg STt ea/nTOig 
oiTCodsv scpvg sx av rjp loyog asdsv 

Knowing that my readers must be impa- 
tient for the appearance of the three folios of 
the History of Pigwacket, and as they cannot 
be put to press for some months, I avail my- 
self of this chance to feed their curiosity by 
an extract, as the cook at Camacho's wedding 
gave Sancho a couple of pullets to stay his 
stomach till dinner time. — Take then the 
portion contained in Chapter CLXXXYJIL 
which begins as follows : 

It becomes my lot at this period of the 
narrative to chronicle an event that formed 
quite an epoch in the history of the town, or 
rather of that part which constituted our 
parish. This occurrence may not be deemed 
by the world quite so momentous as the de- 



78 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

claration of independence, or the French re- 
volution, but the reader may believe me, it 
was a great affair in our community. This 
was no less than a mighty feud in church 
matters about psalm singing. The whole 
parish went by the ears about it, and the 
affair gave the community such a rouse, that 
many people feared we should never fairly 
recover the shock. The particulars were 
these. 

From time immemorial we had continued 
to sing psalms at meeting, as became good 
christians and lovers of harmony. But my 
readers, accustomed to the improvements of 
modern days, have need to be informed that, 
up to this period, our congregation had prac- 
tised this accomplishment according to that 
old method of psalmody known by the desig- 
nation of read-a4ine-and-sing-a-line." This 
primitive practice, which had first come into 
use when hymn-books were scarce, was still 
persisted in, though the necessity of its con- 
tinuance no longer existed. Our church mu- 
sic, therefore, exhibited the quaint and patri- 
archal alternation of recitation and melody, 
if melody it might be called, while some 
towns in the neighborhood had adopted the 
new fashion, and surprised us by the superi- 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 79 

ority of their performances over the rude and 
homely chants of old. 

But it was not long ere the wish to improve 
our style of singing hegan to show itself 
among us. At the first announcement of 
such a design, the piety of many of the old 
members took the alarm, and the new method 
was denounced as heathenish and profane. 
The chief personage who figured in the trou- 
bles which arose upon this matter was Dea- 
con Dogskin, a man of scrupulous orthodoxy, 
highly dogmatical on theological points, and 
a leader of powerful influence in the church. 
This dignitary, whose office it had been to 
give out the several lines of the psalm as they 
were sung, was one of the sturdiest opponents 
of the new-fangled psalmody, and set his face 
against the innovation with all the zeal and 
devotion of a primitive christian. Unfortu- 
nately for him, Deacon Grizzle, his colleague, 
took the opposite side of the question, exem- 
plifying the vulgar saying, " Two of a trade 
can never agree." The discordancy, to tell 
the whole truth, between these two worthies 
lay in more interests than one, and it is to be 
doubted whether they would have come to a 
rupture in church aff"airs had not their mutual 
animosities been quickened by certain tempo- 



80 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

ral janglings ; for so it happened that the two 
deacons kept each a grocery store, and nei- 
ther of them ever let a chance slip of getting 
away the other's custom. Sorry I am to re- 
cord the frailties of two such reputable person- 
ages, who looked upon themselves as burning 
and shining lights in our community, but I 
am afraid the fact cannot be concealed, that 
the petty bickerings which arose between 
them on these little matters of filthy lucre 
were suffered to intrude within the walls of 
the sanctuary and stir up the flame of discord 
in the great psalm-singing feud ; whereby, as 
our neighbor Hopper Paul sagely remarked, 
the world may learn wisdom, and lay it down 
as a maxim, that church affairs can never 
thrive when the deacons are grocers. 

Deacon Grizzle, therefore, partly from con- 
science and partly from spite, placed himself 
at the head of the innovation, and took every 
occasion to annoy his associate with all sorts 
of ingenious reasons why the singing should 
be performed without any intermixture of re- 
citation. The younger part of the congrega- 
tion were chiefly ranged under his banner, 
but the old people mustered strong on the op- 
posite side. To hear the disputes that were 
carried on upon this point, and the pertinacity 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 81 

with which each one maintained his opinion, 
an uninformed spectator would have imagin- 
ed the interests of the whole christian world 
were at stake. In truth, a great many of the 
good old souls really looked upon the act of 
altering the mode of singing as a departure 
from the faith given unto the saints. It was 
a very nice and difficult thing to come to a 
decision where all parties were so hotly inter- 
ested, but an incident which fell out not long 
afterward, contributed to hasten the revolu- 
tion. 

Deacon Dogskin, as I have already re- 
marked, was the individual on whom devolv- 
ed, by prescriptive right, the duty of giving 
out the psalm. The Deacon was in all things 
a stickler for ancient usages ; not only was 
he against giving up a hair's breadth of the 
old custom, but his attachment to the antique 
forms went so far as to embrace all the cir- 
cumstances of immaterial moment connected 
with them. His predilection for the old tone 
of voice was not to be overcome by any en- 
treaty, and we continued to hear the same 
nasal, snuffling drawl, which, nobody knows 
how, he had contracted in the early part of 
his deaconship, although on common occa- 
sions he could speak well enough. But the 
6 



82 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

tone was a part of his vocation ; long use had 
consecrated it, and the deacon would have 
his way. His psalm-book, too, by constant 
use had become to such a degree thumbed 
and blurred and torn and worn, that it was a 
puzzle how, with his old eyes, he could make 
any thing of one half the pages. However, 
a new psalm-book was a thing he would 
never hear spoken of, for, although the thing 
could not be styled an innovation, inasmuch 
as it contained precisely the same collocation 
of words and syllables, yet it was the removal 
of an old familiar object from his sight, and 
his faith seemed to be bound up in the greasy 
covers and dingy leaves of the volume. So 
the deacon stuck to his old psalm-book, and, 
by the help of his memory where the letter- 
press failed him, he made a shift to keep up 
with the singers, who, to tell the truth, were 
not remarkable for the briskness of their notes, 
and dealt more in semibreves than in demi- 
semi-quavers. 

But, on a certain day, it happened that the 
Deacon in the performance of his office, stum- 
bled upon a line which chanced to be more 
than usually thumbed, and defied all his at- 
tempts to puzzle it out. In vain he wiped 
his spectacles, brought the book close to his 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 83 

nose, then held it as far off as possible, then 
brought his nose to the book, then took it away 
again, then held it up to the light, turned it 
this way and that, winked and snuffled and 
hemnried and coughed — the page was too 
deeply grimed by the application of his own 
thumb, to be deciphered by any ocular pow- 
er. The congregation were at a dead stand. 
They waited and waited, but the Deacon 
could not give out the line ; every one stared, 
and the greatest impatience began to be mani- 
fested. At last Elder Darby, who commonly 
took the lead in singing, called out, 

"What's the matter, deacon?"' 

" I can't read it," replied the Deacon in a 
dolorous and despairing tone. 

" Then spell it," exclaimed a voice from 
the gallery. All eyes were turned that way, 
and it was found to proceed from Tim Crack- 
brain, a fellow known for his odd and whim- 
sical habits, and respecting whom nobody 
could ever satisfy himself whether he was 
knave, fool, or madman. The deacon was 
astounded, the congregation gaped and stared, 
but there was no more singing that day. The 
profane behavior of Tim caused great scan- 
dal, and he was severely taken in hand by a 
regular kirk session. 



84 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

This, however, was not the whole, for it 
was plainly to be perceived that the old sys- 
tem had received a severe blow in this occur- 
rence, as no one could deny that such an awk- 
ward affair could never have happened in the 
improved method of psalmody. The affair 
was seized by the advocates of improvement 
and turned against their opponents. Deacon 
Dogskin and his old psalm-book got into de- 
cidedly bad odor ; the result could no longer 
be doubtful ; a parish meeting was held, and 
a resolution passed to abolish the old system 
and establish a singing school. In such a 
manner departed this life, that venerable reli 
of ecclesiastical antiquity, read-a-line-and 
sing-a-line, and we despatched our old ac- 
quaintance to the tomb of oblivion, unwept, 
unhonored, but not unsu/z^. 

This event like all great revolutions, did 
not fail to give sad umbrage to many in the 
church ; and as to Deacon Dogskin, who had 
fought as the great champion of the primitive 
system, he took it in such dudgeon that he 
fell into a fit of the sullens, which resulted in 
a determination to leave a community where 
his opinion and authority had been so fla- 
grantly set at nought. Within two years, 
therefore, he sold off his farm, settled all his 



I 

i 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 85 

concerns both temporal and spiritual in the 
town, and removed to a village about fifteen 
miles distant. His ostensible motive for the 
removal was his declining age, which he de- 
clared to be unequal to the cultivation of so 
large a farm as he possessed in our neighbor- 
hood ; but the true reason was guessed at by 
every one, as the Deacon could never speak 
of the singing school without evident marks 
of chagrin. 

Be this as it may, we proceeded to organize 
the singing school forthwith, for it was de- 
termined to do things in style. First of all, it 
was necessary to find a singing master who 
was competent to instruct us theoretically in 
the principles of the art, and put us to the full 
discipline of our powers. No one, of course, 
thought of going out of the town for this, and 
our directors shortly pitched upon a person- 
age known to every body by the name of 
Hopper Paul. This man knew more tunes 
than any other person within twenty miles, 
and, for aught we knew, more than any other 
man in the world. He could sing Old Hun- 
dred, and Little Marlborough, and Saint An- 
drews, and Bray and Mear and Tanzar and 
Quercy, and at least half a dozen others 
whose names I have forgotten, so that he was 
looked upon as a musical prodigy. 



86 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

I shall never forget Hopper Paul, for both 
the sounds and sights he exhibited were such 
as could hardly be called earthly. He was 
about six feet and a half high, exceedingly 
lank and long, with a countenance which at 
the first sight would suggest to you the idea 
that he had suffered ?i face-quake, for the dif- 
ferent parts of his visage appeared to have 
been shaken out of their places and never to 
have settled properly together. His mouth 
was capable of such a degree of dilatation and 
collapse and twisting, that it looked like a 
half a dozen pair of lips sewed into one. The 
voice to which this comely pair of jaws gave 
utterance might have been compared to the 
lowing of a cow, or the deepest bass of an 
overgrown bull-frog, but hardly to any sound 
made by human organs. 

Hopper Paul, possessing all these accom- 
plishments, was therefore chosen head singer^ 
and teacher of the school, which was immedi- 
ately set on foot. This was a great affair in 
the eyes of all the young persons of both sex- 
es, the thing being the first of that sort which 
had ever been heard of in our parts; for 
though the natives of the town were a psalm- 
singing race, like all genuine NewEnglanderSj 
yet they had hitherto learned to sing much in 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 87 

the saQie way as they learned to talk, not by 
theory, but in the plainest way of practice, 
each individual joining in with the strains 
that were chanted at meeting according lo 
the best of his judgment. In this method, as 
the reader may suppose, they made but a 
blundering sort of melody, yet as the tunes 
were few, and each note drawled out to an 
unconscionable length, all were more or less 
familiar with their parts, or if they got into 
the wrong key, had time to change it ere the 
line was ended. But things were now to be 
set on a different footing; great deeds were 
to be done, and each one Avas anxious to 
make a figure in the grand choir. All the 
young people of the parish were assembled, 
and we began operations. 

How we got through our first essays, I 
need not say, except that we made awkward 
work enough of it. There were a great many 
voices that seemed made for nothing but to 
spoil all our melody; but what could we do 7 
All were determined to learn to sing, and 
Hopper Paul was of opinion that the bad 
voices would grow mellow by practice, though 
how he could think so whenever he heard 
his own, passes my comprehension. However, 
we could all raise and fall the notes, and that 



m OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

was something. We met two evenings in. 
each week during the winter, and by the 
beginning of spring we had got so well drilled 
in the gamut that we began to practise regu- 
lar tunes. Now we breathed forth such me- 
lodies as I think have seldom been heard 
elsewhere; but as we had no standard of 
excellence to show us the true character of 
our performances, we could never be aware 
that our music was not equal to the harmony 
of the spheres. It was thought a peculiar 
excellence to sing through the nose, and take 
a good reasonable time to swell out every 
note. Many of us were apt to get into too 
high a key, but that was never regarded, 
provided we made noise enough. In short, 
after a great deal more practice we were pro- 
nounced to be thoroughly skilled in the sci- 
ence, for our lungs had been put to such a 
course of discipline that every one of us could 
roar with a most stentorian grace; and as to 
our commander in chief, no man on earth ever 
deserved better than he, the name of Boaner- 
ges, or Sun of Thunder. 

It was decided, therefore, that on Fast day 
next, we should take the field; so we were 
all warned to prepare ourselves to enter the 
singing seats at the meeting on that eventful 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 89 

day. Should I live a thousand years, I shall 
never forget it : this was to be the first public 
exhibition of our prowess, and we were ex- 
horted to do our best. The exhortation was 
unnecessary, for we were as ambitious as the 
most zealous of our friends could desire, and 
we were especially careful in rehearsing the 
tunes beforehand. The day arrived, and we 
marched in a body to take possession. No 
stalwart knights, at a tournament, ever spur- 
red their chargers into the lists with more 
pompous and important feelings than we 
entered the singing seats. The audience, of 
course, were all expectation, and when the 
hymn was given out, we heard it with beat- 
ing hearts. 

It was amusing, however, in the midst of 
all our trepidation, to witness the counte- 
nance of Deacon Dogskin, who was obliged 
to sit facing us during the whole service. 
His looks were as sour and cynical as if he 
could have driven us out of the house, and he 
never vouchsafed to cast a glance at us from 
beginning to end of the performance. There 
was another person who had been a great 
stickler for the ancient usage. This was Elder 
Darby, who had been head singer under the 
Deacon's administration, and looked upon 



90 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

himself as dividing the honors of that system 
with the Deacon himself. He accordingly- 
fought hard against the innovation, and was 
frequently heard to declare that the whole 
platform of christian doctrine would be under- 
mined, if more than one line was suffered to 
be sung at a time. In fact, this personage, 
being what is emphatically called a '' weak 
brother," but full of zeal and obstinacy, gave 
us a great deal more trouble than the Deacon, 
who was not deficient in common shrewdness, 
notwithstanding his oddities. This was a 
bitter day, therefore, to Elder Darby, who felt 
very awkward at finding his occupation gon€, 
and his enemies triumphant all in the same 
moment. 

But we were now called upon to sing, and 
every eye, except those of the Deacon and a 
few others, was turned upward: the hymn 
was given out, Hopper Paul brandished, his 
pitch-pipe and set the tune, and we began 
with stout hearts and strong lungs. Such 
sounds had never been heard within those 
walls before. The windows rattled, and the 
ceiling shook with the echo, in such a manner 
that some people thought the great chandelier 
would have a down-come. Think of the 
united voices of all the sturdy, able-bodied 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 91 

lads and lasses of the parish pouring forth the 
most uproarious symphony of linked sweet- 
ness long drawn out, that their lungs could 
furnish, and you will have some faint idea of 
our melodious intonations. At length we 
came to a verse in the hymn where the words 
chimed in with the melody in such a striking 
and effective manner that the result was 
overpowering. The verse ran thus : — 

So pilgrims on the scorching sand, 

Beneath a burning sky, 
Long for a cooling stream at hand, 

And they must drink or die. 

When we struck one after another into the 
third line, and trolled forth the reiterations, 

Long for a cooling — 
Long for a cooling — 
Long for a cooling — coo — oo — ooling, 

we verily thought, one and all, that we were 
soaring up — up — upwards on the combined 
euphony of the tune and syllables, into the 
seventh heaven of harmony. The congrega- 
tion were rapt into ecstacies, and thought they 
had never heard music till then. It was a 
most brilliant triumph for us ; every voice, as 
we thought, though of course themalecontents 
must be excepted, struck in with us, and 
swelled the loud peal till the walls rung 



92 OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 

again. But I must not omit to mention the 
strange conduct of Elder Darby, who, in the 
midst of this burst of enthusiastic approbation, 
never relaxed the stern and sour severity of 
his looks, but took occasion of the first mo- 
mentary pause in the melody, to utter a very 
audible and disdainful expression of " Chaff! 
chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!" 

Deacon Grizzle was by no means slow in 
perceiving these manifestations of the Elder's 
mortified feehngs, and did not fail to join him 
on his way home from meeting, for the ex- 
press purpose of annoying him further by 
commendations of the performances. All he 
could get in reply was a further exclamation 
of ^' Chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff! chaff!" 
In fact the Elder's obstinacy was incurable ; 
he was seized during the following week 
with a strange deafness in one of his ears, 
and as it happened very strangely too, to be 
that ear which was turned towards the sing- 
ing seats when he sat in his pew, he declared 
it would be impossible to hear sufficiently 
well on that side of his head, to accompany 
the singers : as to altering his position, it was 
not to be thought of: he had occupied the 
same spot for forty years, and could no more 
be expected to change his seat than to change 



OUR SINGING SCHOOL. 93 

his creed. The consequence was, that on the 
day we began singing, the Elder left off. 
From that time forth, he never heard the sub- 
ject of church psalmody alluded to, without 
a chop- fallen look, a rueful shake of the head, 
a sad lamentation over the decline of sound 
christian doctrine, and a peevish and indig- 
nant exclamation of '-Chaff! chaff! chaff! 
chaff! chaff!" 



BENONI BURDOCK. 



A CHARACTER. 



" By my troth, Captain, these be very bitter words !" 
ni K. Henry IV. 



Benoni Burdock was a bitter man, and 
every thing about him was bitter. He was 
the beau ideal, abstraction, incarnation and 
concentration of bitterness. Nothing dulcet 
entered into his composition, or could be 
made to harmonize with any one of his qual- 
ities, physical or intellectual. He was born 
on a bitter cold day, when the skies were bit- 
ter, and every body around him looked and 
felt most bitterly. He came into the world in 
bitter times, and they have been growing bit- 
terer ever since. It was wonderful to see how 
rapidly the bitterness of his nature developed 
itself. The first time he tasted a sugar-plum 
it set him a crying ; but a drop of wormwood 
tea restored him to good humor — that is, 
such good humor as a body may show in a 
bitter way. He never laughed, though he 



BENONI BURDOCK. 95 

sometimes grinned sullenly a bitter smile. 
Sugar candy was an abomination to him. 
He was never known to practise the Yankee 
trick of Ucking molasses; and the mention of 
honey made him sick. Gingerbread never 
sat well upon his stomach ; sweetmeats made 
him faint ; but he delighted in chewing rhu- 
barb, flag-root, gentian, mundungus and quas- 
sia. Fruit he would not eat, except choke 
pears, and he thought no flowers fit to be smelt 
at but rue and skunk-cabbage. 

Such was the birth, infancy and youth of 
Benoni Burdock, bitter — bitter — bitter. As 
he advanced in life he grew bitterer still ; his 
whole career was a most beautiful develop- 
ment of bitterness. He never fell in love — 
not he ; that was too sweet a passion. He 
was not amorous, as Dr Heavyside remarked, 
attempting a ponderous pun ; he was amaris- 
simus. He lived all alone, because the peo- 
ple about him had sweet faces. He kept a 
great snarling dog with a most surly and 
spiteful visage. Benoni thought him a beau- 
ty, because he always looked bitterly even 
when gnawing his bones. 

As for Benoni himself, his looks cannot be 
expressed in language. If my inkstand held 
all the streams of Marah and Cocytus, it 



96 BENONI BURDOCK. 

could not supply a requisite for the descrip- 
tion of the bitterness of that visage of his. 
The sight of it would make you think of all 
the bitter diseases that flesh is heir to, — hypo^ 
blue-devils, megrims, mulligrubs, north-east- 
ers, notes-to-pay, and all sorts of diabolical 
despondencies. To take his word for it, Be- 
noni was never well in his life; he always 
had " a terrible pain in the stomach," or was 
''in a poor state of health," or was " failing 
fast," or " doing miserably," or was " not 
long for this world," or in some such dismal 
way. 

It is wonderful to see how many bitter 
ways there are of enjoying life. Benoni Bur- 
dock was a perfect adept in this art ; he ex- 
tracted bitterness from every thing. He was 
bitter habitually, and sour by way of a 
change. He drank hardly any thing but 
Stoughton's elixir, and once quarrelled with 
his father, because, instead of strong beer, he 
gave him a glass of Mother Cob's mild. He 
always had his meat overdone, to give it a 
sooty flavor, and could not endure any sauce 
that did not taste puckery. As for medicine^ 
pills were too sweet for him ; his favorite dose 
was coloquintida, though there were varia- 
tions of bitterness in his humor when he 



BENONI BURDOCK. 97 

could endure hie7^a picra. His recreation 
was reading Fast Day sermons, and his feli- 
city foul weather. 

Benoni was fond of music, b^t it was mu- 
sic of a particular sort. He delighted to hear 
the filing of a handsaw, the yelping of a dog, 
a cat-concert, the singing of a northwester 
through a cranny, the clack of a scolding 
woman, the grinding of an ungreased wheel 
and the roaring of a bull-frog. He could 
sing, after a fashion, and amused himself 
with all sorts of bitter tunes, such as '• Oh ! 
there '11 be mourning," — The Tongs and the 
Bones, — Dirge in the Dumps, and Billings's 
Jargon. He had a cage hanging up in his 
room, where he kept — not a canary bird or 
a bob-o-link, but a beautiful little screech- 
owl. There was also a cricket under his 
hearth, and when the owl screeched, the 
cricket cried, the tea-kettle sighed, and the 
sappy fore- stick on the fire set up a groaning, 
then Benoni felt the full enjoyment of bitter- 
ness. He would strike in and sing his favor- 
ite air, '' Let's all be unhappy together !" 

Benoni, too, was fond of the fine arts. He 
had all sorts of bitter-looking portraits hang- 
ing in his room, such as Richard the Third, 
Djezzar Pasha, Caracalla, Commodore Trun- 
7 



y>Ji BENONI BURDOCK. 

nion, Ancient Pistol, and Old Put. Benoni's 
literature showed the same exquisite taste. He 
learnt all sorts of bitter words and objurgatory- 
ejaculations. / In philosophy he was a decided 
cynic, and he knew Rochefoucault by heart.j. 
He thought highly of Timon of Athens, and 
was an indefatigable collector of Fast Day 
sermons ; but his favorite reading was Doctor 
Gall. 

Some people may think Benoni was mise- 
rable in consequence of all this. Never was 
a greater mistake. Benoni was happy, be- 
cause bitterness was enjoyment to him. Did 
you ever take notice, gentle reader, of the 
lives of these grumbling, bitter people ? They 
are "sick of the world," they are "tired of 
existence," " such things will kill them," 
they are "just going," and all that — and yet 
how long-lived they are ! They survive all 
their cheerful neighbors. No misfortunes, na 
catastrophes, no sufferings, hinder them from 
growing gray under all their calamities. The 
wonder is, they ever die at all. Grumbling 
is the life of them. 

Just so with Benoni ; he was always hap- 
piest when there was most bitterness about 
him. The more bitter things he could say, 
the more bitter things he could do, the more 



BENONI BURDOCK. 99 

bitter things he could hear of, the more he 
thrived. He felt bitterly towards all the 
world, though there was no partiality in that, 
for he was quite as bitter towards himself. 
He was a friend to nobody except bitter ene- 
mies. He was always uneasy during peace- 
able times, and I verily believe he would 
have died long ago, had things gone smoothly ; 
but there have been such bitter doings of late 
that Benoni has been able to grumble on. 

I have spoken of this bitter genius in the 
past tense, though I am not certain that he 
has actually taken his leave of the bitterness 
of this mundane slate. The last time I saw 
him was a hw months ago, when we took a 
glass of bitters together, by way of sweetening 
our conversation. It was a raw, easterly day 
— emphatically bitter ; I knew such weather 
would bring him out. He was as bitter as 
ever I knew him, and gave a most ludicro- 
dolorous grin when I complimented him upon 
the flourishing state of his bitter old age. He 
talked in the usual strain, for he was always 
bitterly croaking. These were bitter hard 
times, bitter prospects for the country ; things 
were in a bitter state, "money was tight," 
there was a "horrible pressure," the "banks 
wouldn't discount, the country was *' going 



100 BENONI BURDOCK. 

to ruin," " trade was overdone," there would 
" be an awful crash before long," — and what 
not. 

Such was Benoni Burdock, and such were 
his rare virtues. May they be duly honored 
by all who are just like him. If my readers 
do not recollect the identical man, they know 
many of his family, who, though they cannot 
copy him in full perfection, yet try very hard 
to do it. Success betide them, for their own 
sake, though not for that of other folks. But 
enough of Benoni. Let us sweeten our 
thoughts by talking of something else ; though 
if any body wishes for the bitterness of his 
acquaintance, I think his lodgings may be 
found at the lower end of Wormwood Alley. 



DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST, 



A TALE. 

Some folks there are who never stint to 
Tell fibs, and publish them in print too : 
And various books that I 've dipp'd into, 

Plain truth have scouted, 
Ev'n Gulliver and Mendez Pinto 

I 've sometimes doubted. 

And some old -dames, sedate and cool, 
Will stuff your «ars with stories full, 
About a rooster and a bull, 

With grave grimaces. 
And saintly rogues the long-bow pull, 

With solemn faces. 

And greybeards in three-corner'd scrapers, 
Have told me tales by midnight tapers, 
Where facts have cut suspicious capers, 

Bouncing, all hollow. 
And stories oft get in the papers 

That I can't swallow. 

This is a theme I 'd fain rehearse on, 

For lying tales I lay my curse on : 

But this which now I hitch my verse oa, 

'T would be audacity 
To disbelieve, for I 'm a person 

Of strict veracity. 



102 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 

Last night, as I stroll'd out, remarkina: 
In my cool way, young roysters larking, 
And jovial gallants gaily sparking 

In wild excursion, 
And round odd corners slily sharking. 

Just for diversion. 

The giant whale with watery spont, 
Had quench'd the flaming dog-star out. 
And Mars had put the moon to rout, 

Battling a wager. 
And clouds were muzzling close the snout 

Of Ursa Major. 

And blasts from hyperborean climes, 
Began to ring northwestern chimes 
Across my teeth, cold as the rhymes 

Of temperance sinners^ 
Which taper off at certain times, 

Tee-total dinners. 

And down the street in darkness faring, 
Behold J a bony spectre glaring 
Fall in my face ! I started, staring, 

And cried, " I 'm done t "■ 
*T is Gaffer Death, my doom preparingj 

" Sure as a gun I " 

You 'II guess he had but thin attire, 
For through his ribs as he drew nigher, 
I saw with consternation dire 

The sky gleam sadder,, 
As plain as ever you could spy a 

Hale through a ladder. 



DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 103 

And then — do n't think I tell you lies — 
My feet refused from earth to rise, 
Firm to the ground that dread surprise 

And fright did pin them, 
While Death roU'd up his saucer eyes 

With nothing in them. 

And face to face to face a moment looking, 
My brains in fiery fever cooking, 
And then his lanky elbow crooking, 

With creak to scare ye, 
He made a snatch, my knuckles hooking. 

And cried, " How fare ye ? " 

Eh sirs ! 'T was not with mickle glee, 

I hail'd such ghostly company ? 

But sheer death-struck, I could not flee. 

So roar'd the faster, 
And cried " Hands off ! for I 'm, d' ye see. 

Meat for your master ! " 

** And, Goodman Bones, do n't think to claw 
Your game without some tug of war. 
On this highway, you know, the law 

Forbids to forage : 
So now, old Small-Back, save your paw 

To stir your porridge." 

Then with his fist in desperate slap, 
He gave his long thigh-bone a rap, 
And twitch'd his jaws into a snap 

Of screeching laughter, 
And cried "By Jove ! yon 're not the chap 

I 'm looking after ! 



104 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 

" Ods zooks ! this blundering beats the Dutch ! 
My friends have multiplied so much, 
I really have not claws to clutch, 

Nor place to thrust 'em. 
My shanks were never tir'd with such 

A run of custom . 

" Perllttps you 're wondering what I 'm at. 
Sit down ; let 's have a bit of chat, 
For here 's a seat will suit us pat, 

Though 't is a cold one." 
" Agreed," said I, and tipp'd my hat, 

" Your servant, Old one ! " 

" But after you " — said he. " No no ! " 

And then we both congeed, and so 

Sat down with awkward scrapes I trow, 

And odd vagaries. 
Just by the door of Smith & Co. 

Apothecaries. 

" 'T is true," I cried, " see how we drop, 
December coughs our windpipes stop. 
And dire pleuretics deadly pop 

Our mortal gumptions. 
I '11 warrant you 've a good fat crop 

Of ripe consumptions ! " 

" You quite mistake," said Death, " I hope, ah! 
I 'm not quite such a greedy groper ; 
But there 's a quacking interloper. 

That keeps me trotting, 
And kills each day some luckless moper, 

His brains besotting. 



DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 105 

" Perhaps you 've heard him named by some — 

Sylvester Sawdust, alias Fum. 

He 's got no brains, not half a crumb, 

Big as a button, 
Yet many a flat contrives to gum 

Out of his mutton. 

" He gravely gulls the green-horns raw. 
Peddling and preaching lenten law, 
And wags away his twaddling jaw, 

In crackskull tattle. 
How men should go to munching straw, 

Like four-foot cattle, 

" And drench their throats with vile milksoppery, 

And bran and corn-cob lollipoppery, 

And porridge draff and dish- wash moppery, 

— Sawdust, the jewel ! 
Stews out of all such piddling sloppery, 

Starvation gruel. 

" And swears with blarney multibrogous. 

If this dog's-drench cachexagogous, 

We suck like calves and soundly cogue us, 

The vile bamboozler !] — 
Long we shall live as Tantrabogus, 

And old Methusaleh ! 

" This nonsense babbled, straight a host 
Of dolts as brainless as a post. 
Gape and believe the stupid boast. 

His bran potation 
They swallow and give up the ghost 

In quick starvation. 



106 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 

" You '11 recollect sweet Peter Puff, 
That hearty, thumping, fat old chuff, 
Wrapp'd up in fleshy covering tough, 

No puny packet, 
But something that would stoutly stuff, 

Old Falstaff's jacket. 

" Who loved to hear roast mutton sizzling, 
And good fat cheer on all sides mizzling. 
And no more needed peptic drizzling 

With porridge puddly, 
Than my bare noddle wants a frizzling 

Of Bogue and Dudley. 

" Sawdust has played his flesh the thief, 
And pining under bran and grief, 
His luckless bones are barr'd relief. 

With such a veto. 
You might as well look out for beef 

On a moscheto. 

" Old Gabriel Gobbs, whose brawny flanks 
Pill'd up three aldermen's broad ranks, 
With Sawdust's trash has play'd such pranks, 

His vitals coddling, 
That now, full speed, on spindle shanks. 

To death he 's toddling. 

" That pursy rogue too, Gideon Grinner, 

I guess you '11 find a little thinner, 

What do you think ? — the crack-brain'd sinner, 

— A n't it amazing ? 
Won't touch a bit of Christian dinner. 

But goes a grazing ! 



DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 107 

" A half-starved eel you never skinn'd 

So lank and bare ; Good George ! I 've grinn'd 

To see fat ribs by Sawdust thinn'd 

In such a fashion, 
That, by the Lord ! to clip his wind, 

Would be compassion. 

" And I protest, 't is quite concerning, 
To see the flesh their bodies spurning, 
And pale their hatchet faces turning, 

As cotton towels. 
Ugh ! 't is a sight that sets to yearning 
My bony bowels " 

To hear Death flame so hot and blazy. 
Against his friend, quite made me mazy, 
And thus in intellectuals hazy, 

I thought pathetical — 
" Old Father Long-legs sure is crazy, 

Or struck poetical ! " 

Then waggishly my numskull swinging, 
Said I, " Old Bones, my ears are ringing 
To hear you thus sad curses stringing, 

With such ill will, 
Against the beast who 's only bringing 

Grist to your mill." 

But here he caught me in a blunder. 

For straight he roar'd a laugh like thunder, 

And sneering cried, as I for wonder, 

Held in my breath, — 
" D' ye think there's no compassion under 

The ribs of Death? 



108 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 

" 'Tis not quite fair to raise a cry, 
Should my cadaverous temper fly 
A bit excited when I spy 

Such wholesale slaughter, 
Since ev'n your temperance folks get high 

Upon cold water.* 

*' To do plain jobs I'm not unwilling, 
A fair knock-down is nobly thrilling, 
And blood in glorious battle spilling, 

No doubt 's delectable. 
But^his low, scurvy mode of killing 

Don't look respectable. 

" There 's no vile cheat when dropsies drown. 
The Mumps in honest warfare frown, 
Fever and gout lay waste the town, 

Foul treachery scorning. 
And cholera never knocks you down 

Without fair warning. 

^' And plague in sounding terror comes, 
And carnage snaps her giant thumbs 
With pomp of trumpets and of drums ; 

But 't would have shock'd her, 
To gobble up the sneaking crumbs 

Of a quack doctor ! 



* Lest Gaffer Death should he suspected of stretching the truth here, 
we will subjoin a statement of the /act, from the Boston ' Temperance 
Journal an<J Total Abstinence Gazette ' in the description of the din- 
ner at the Marlboro House, July 4th, 1837. 

*' Grave Senators and Representatives, mechanics, clergymen, doc- 
tors, farmers, traders of all sorts, merchants, laborers and lawyers, 
got downright high over Rogers's pure iced water." 

This statement, of course, can be relied upon ; and Dr Dryasdust 
tells us he has no doubt of it, for the speeches reported on the occasion, 
were such as could not have been uttered by sober men. 



DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 109 

" But Boston throats are wide enough, 
And swallow lumps so crude and tough, 
My wits an't worth a pinch of snuff, 

Ev'n could I cool them, 
To guess what monstrous crack-brain stuff 

Will next befool them. 

" Tell them a tale of three black crows, ; 

Humbug, as plain as my ten toes. 
And down the quacking nonsense goes 

Sure to besot one." 
Here Death tried to turn up his nose. 

But had n't got one. 

" You 'd not believe how many score 
Have Sawdust's quackery to deplore, 
Despatch *d as dead as nail in door. 

Each luckless waller. 
They fall like cabbage heads before 

A starving tailor. 

" But bide a wee, and vengeance mickle 
Shall snap him up, and I won't stickle, 
For there's a special rod in pickle, 

I '11 soon be shaking. 
Then to a T, his hide I '11 tickle. 

And no mistaking ! 

" I'll not with club his noddle crack, 
Nor lay lumbago on his back. 
Nor send the colic's pinching rack. 

To spoil his quiet. 
But faith ! I '11 dose the dirty quack 

With his own piet i 



110 DEATH AND DOCTOR SAWDUST. 

" Some hundreds more I'll let him slay, 
Then by the heels the loon I'll lay ; 
I 've nicked his obit to a day ; 

Although, by jingo ! 
Such things I am forbid to say 

In earthly lingo. 

" I '11 tell ye that in mystic glamour." — 

But just as he began to stammer, 

The Old South clock's portentous hammer 

Let fall a "bang-! " 
His backbone rattled with the .clamor, 

And up he sprang — 

Then disappear'd in darkness thick. 
I clutch'd amain my crabtree stick, 
And down the street I toddled quick, 

In tremors nervous. 
And so, from Sawdust and Old Nick 

The Lord preserve us ! 



THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 

Prithee ! Look there ! 

Macbeth. 

Believing in ghosts, somebody remarks, is 
like the sea-sickness when it first comes on. 
Nobody will confess, but every body has mis- 
givings. I must make myself an exception ; 
for I am willing to confess both ghosts and 
sea-sickness. Beyond a certain point, how- 
ever, I am not disposed to place the two phe- 
nomena upon an equality, for I am bound to 
confess that I should prefer seeing twenty 
ghosts to being sea-sick once. Ghosts, indeed, 
are favorites with me; and having enjoyed 
the advantage of seeing a great number, I can 
speak with some confidence about them. A 
great many people talk sheer nonsense on the 
subject ; indeed, not one in ten ever speaks of 
a ghost in a becoming style. All this has led 
to many mistaken notions in demonology. 
The long and the short of it is, that ghosts 
have been very badly treated by people in 
general, and if we do not turn over a new 



112 THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 

leaf, I am under some apprehensions that the 
whole army of sprites will discontinue their 
visits, in resentment of these affronts, so that 
before long, there will not be a ghost to be seen 
for love, money, or murder. This catastro- 
phe, I grieve to say, seems to be approaching 
already, for ghosts are not half so common as 
they were in the days of my grandmother. 

Strict justice, however, compels me to say, 
that the ghosts themselves are somewhat to 
blame in the matter, their behavior at times 
being a little antic and anomalous. There 
are faults on both sides ; which hoping I may 
remedy, 1 offer the following suggestions for 
the consideration of both parties, and let 
ghosts and ghost-seers lay them to heart. 

In the first place, a ghost should never 
wear a night-cap. Some readers may doubt 
whether the thing has ever been done ; but 
the fact is unquestionable ; ghosts in night- 
caps have been seen by too many credible 
persons to allow of any doubt upon this point. 
I protest, however, against any such head- 
dress for a member of the tartarean regions ; 
it is unghostly, and ought to be abandoned. 
If a ghost has any sense of propriety, let him 
appear with a bare sconce ; it is much more 
respectable. Some indulgence may perhaps 



THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 113 

be claimed for a bald ghost, especially consid- 
ering the coolness of the night air. My great- 
grandfather, who was a ghost-seer of some 
talent, used to recommend a wig; but this, I 
think, would never be endured : a ghost in a 
wig ! what an unspiritual costume. No, — 
wigs will never do. A while handkerchief 
might serve every purpose, provided it were 
not tied on, for that would look night-cappish 
again. 

Secondly, a ghost should never pull a man 
by the nose. Here again I may be asked, 
" Have ghosts ever been addicted to nose- 
pulling?" I am not certain; but the story 
goes that they have. I pronounce it wrong 
ill toto ; it is undignified and improper. If a 
ghost wishes to give any person so sensible a 
token of his presence, let him bestow a sound 
bang upon his noddle : this would be em- 
phatic and decisive; there would be no mis- 
take about it. But as to our noses, — hands 
off! No ghost that has any regard for his 
character, will clap his digits to your olfactory 
projection. This suggests another thought. 
Ought a ghost to be allowed to take snuff? 
My aunt Grizzel says, yes, if he can keep 
from sneezing. On mature consideration, I 
say no, unless it be the ghost of a tobacconist. 
8 



114 THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 

Thirdly, a ghost should be nice in his eat- 
ing: he should not eat too much, nor of the 
wrong dishes. Some kinds of victuals are 
unfit for a ghost to eat, and sound very oddly 
when they are mentioned in connection with 
a visitor from the invisible world. An old 
lady of my acquaintance knew a ghost that 
came one Saturday night into her kitchen and 
ate half a dozen pig's trotters and a plate of 
minced fish. Another drank a quart of sour 
cider, but was observed to make a horrible 
wry face at it. These ghosts might plead 
their appetite, having travelled probably a 
good distance; but I think they ought to 
have gone further and fared worse. In fact, 
I object to eating altogether ; but if it must be 
done, let them help themselves to light food, 
and by all means join the Temperance So- 
ciety. 

Fourthly, a ghost, when he appears in 
metamorphosis, should come in a shape befit- 
ting the sublimity of his character. I knew a 
ghost once that came in the shape of a tea- 
pot, and another that took the form of a leg 
of mutton. These are unghostly shapes; for 
what have legs of mutton and tea-pots to do 
in the invisible world 7 My uncle Tim saw 
one in the shape of a militia colonel : it is a 



THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 115 

pity that any ghost should ever have made 
such a fool of himself. A justice of peace 
once told me that he saw a ghost in the shape 
of a great jackass; but it was probably no- 
thing more than his own shadow. 

Fifthly, there are various points of behavior 
in ghosts, to which we may reasonably object. 
Ghosts may walk or run as fast as they please, 
but they ought not to cut capers. Some may 
say it is difficult for them to avoid this, con- 
sidering how light they are ; but that is their 
affair and not ours. A ghost, I maintain, 
ought to behave with sobriety, and not play 
fantastic tricks. My aunt Grizzel, for in- 
stance,'saw a ghost jump over a broomstick, 
and another grinding coffee : now any body 
could do these things, therefore a ghost ought 
not to do them. A ghost was seen once, that 
jumped over a dining-table, flung three som- 
ersets in the air, and made sixteen pirouettes 
on the tip of his right toe, without putting 
himself out of breath : I have no doubt this 
was the ghost of a Frenchman. 

Sixthly, besides the rules I have laid down 
on the subject of night-caps, ghosts ought to 
be particular in their dress. Some ghosts 
dress so absurdly that they are not worth 
looking at when the hghts burn blue, as 



116 THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 

enough such figures may be seen by broad 
dayhght. Ghosts have been known to wear 
snuff-colored breeches ! and I have even 
known a ghost in cow-hide boots ! Is this fit 
costume for a hobgobhn ? Really, such 
ghosts ought to be taught better. Habili- 
ments like these can never inspire a ghostly 
dread in any spectator, even in a church-yard 
by the light of the moon or when the clock 
strikes midnight: they are entirely out of 
keeping. I have heard of a ghost that always 
came in a new coat, smartly buttoned up, 
and a spandy clean dickey. This must have 
been the ghost of a tailor. A tolerably good 
color for a ghost is black ; pepper-and-salt 
will hardly do : though I should not have 
much objection to that sort of homespun 
called thunder-and-hghtning. But, after all 
that can be said in favor of fancy colors, 
nothing is equal to a white sheet ; for, when 
gracefully thrown on, there is nothing be- 
comes a ghost so well. 

People who are troubled with ghosts may 
be anxious to know the best means of laying 
them, and whether they ought to be sent to 
the infernal regions, or the Red Sea. On the 
latter point I may remark that I consider the 
Red Sea the safest, because, if sent to the 






THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 117 

first- mentioned place, some people might find 
themselves under a necessity of renewing ac- 
quaintance with them another day. Some 
ghosts are more difficult to lay than others. 
The hardest of all is the ghost of a deputy 
sheriff. When once a man is haunted by 
such an apparition, his case is desperate. No 
sprite or hobgoblin sticks closer to a man than 
this. He walks by day as well as by night, 
and his spectral form glides up and down 
'change, as well as the church-yard. The 
phantom stares you in the face at the turning 
of every corner, and lucky will you be if you 
feel not the magic influence of his touch, 
which is able to communicate a more disa- 
greeable shock than a torpedo or a galvanic 
battery. This spirit can flit through key-holes 
and under the crack of a door, and if he once 
taps you on the shoulder, you are fixed by 
enchantment to the spot. The only effectual 
mode of laying the ghost is by certain charm- 
ed scraps of paper, all covered over with ca- 
balistical figures and marks of 5 — 10 — 20, 
&c., which being waved in the air before his 
face, the spectre disappears. 

Seventhly, ghosts should talk good Eng- 
lish, and by all means avoid poetry, for most 
of the ghost-rhymes current are as bad as any 



118 THOUGHTS ON SEEING GHOSTS. 

Stuff I ever saw in the newspapers. Ghosts 
ought to maintain a certain tone of loftiness 
and dignity in their conversation, and not 
gabble Hke so many tinkers. What could a 
ghost be thinking of, who talked in this man- 
ner : '' Then says the man to the ghost, 
' Who are you 7 ' — 'I'm the ghost of old 
Slouch, the red-nosed tallow-chandl r,' says 
he. 'What do you want here?' says the 
man. ' I 'm only haunting this soap-barrel,' 
says the ghost. ' I smell brimstone,' says the 
man. ' Merely candle-snuff,' says the ghost. 
' Know of any money buried here 7 ' says 
the man. ' Only five shillings in the toe of a 
stocking,' says the ghost. ' Well,' says the 
man, * in all my life, I never heard a ghost 
talk as you do,' " 6cc. &c. Yet this conver- 
sation actually passed as related. My great- 
grandmother's second cousin knew the man 
perfectly well, and he was a person of un- 
doubted veracity. This ghost certainly did 
not maintain the majesty of his character: 
and it is a mark of improvement in demono- 
logy, that ghosts stand more upon their digni- 
ty nowadays. 



JOSH BEANPOLE'S COURTSHIP. 



As pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling. 

As You Like It. 



''Mother!" exclaimed Josh Beanpole, 
"Mother, I say, I feel all over in a twittera- 
tion like. Huh ! huh ! Who 'd have thought 
it?"' 

" What ails ye, Josh ?" asked the old wo- 
man, stopping her spinning wheel at this 
exclamation. " What bug has bit you 
now?" 

' 'Can 't tell." said Josh in a drooping, 
dolorous tone, and hanging his head as if he 
had been caught stealing a sheep. 

" Can 't tell !" said Mrs Beanpole, turning 
quite round, and giving Josh a wondering 
what does the critter 



mean i 



r' 



'' Who 'd ha' thought it ?" repeated Josh, 
fumbling in his pockets, twisting round his 
head and rolling up his eyes in a fashion 
most immensely sheepish. — " Hannah Dow- 



120 JOSH beanpole's courtship. 

ner 's courted !" Here Josh shuffled himself 
awkwardly into the settle in the chimney 
corner, and sunk upon one side, fixing his 
eyes with a most ludicro-dismal squint upon 
the lower extremity of a pot-hook that hung 
at the end of the crane. 

" Courted !" exclaimed Mrs Beanpole, not 
exactly comprehending the state of her son's 
intellectuals. ^' Well — what 's all that when 
it's fried?" 

''Arter so many pails of water as I've 
pumped for her," said Josh in a dismal whine, 
— ''for to go for to let herself to be courted 
by another feller !" 

" Here 's a to-do !" ejaculated the old 
woman. 

''It 's tarnation all over!" said Josh, be- 
ginning a bolder tone as he found his mother 
coming to an understanding of the matter. 
" It makes me crawl all over to think on 't. 
Did n't I wait on her three times to singing 
school ? Had n't I e'en a most made up my 
mind to break the ice, and tell her I should n't 
wonder if Ihad a sneakin' notion arter some- 
body's Hannah? 1 should ha' been reg'lar 
courting in less than a month. — and Peet 
Spinbutton has cut me out — as shck as a 
whistle !" 



121 



'' Peet Spinbutton !" said the old woman — 
'' Well, 1 want to know !" 

" Darn his eyes !" exclaimed Josh. 

''Peet Spinbutton !" repeated Mrs Bean- 
pole ; " what, the ensign of the Dogtown 
Blues ? — that great lummockin' feller !" 

" Darn him to darnation !" exclaimed Josh, 
catching hold of the toast-iron as if he meant 
to lay about him — '' to cut in afore me in 
that ere sort o' way !" 

Mrs Beanpole caught Josh by the arm, ex- 
claiming, " Josh ! Joshy ! Joshy ! what are 
you about? Peet Spinbutton? I don 't be- 
lieve it." 

'' What !" said Josh, " did n't I hear with 
my own ears last night that ever was, Zeb 
Shute tell me all about it?" 

'' Zeb Shute ? —well, what did Zeb Shute 
say?" 

"Why, says he to me — Josh, says he, 
what do you think, says he — I do n't know, 
no, n't I, says I. — Tell you what, says he 
— that 'ere Harinah Downer — What of Han- 
nah Downer ? says I — for I begun to crawl 
all over. — Tell ye what, says he — she 's 
a whole team. — Ah, says I, she 's a whole 
team and a horse to let. — Tell ye what, says 
he, guess somebody has a sneakin' notion that 



122 



way. — Should n't wonder, says I, feeling all 
over in a flustration, thinkin' he meant me. 
Tell ye what, says he, — guess Peet Spinbut- 
ton and she 's pretty thick together. — How 
you talk, says I. — Fact, says he. — Well, I 
never ! says I. — Tell ye what, says he — 
No, that 's all he said." 

"Pooh!" said the old woman, "it's all 
wind, Joshy, it 's nothing but Zeb Shute's 
nonsense." 

" Do you think so?" exclaimed Josh, with 
a stare of uncommon animation, and his 
mouth wide open. 

"No doubt on't, Joshy, my boy," replied 
she, "for Peggy Downer was here yesterday 
forenoon, to borrow a cup of starch, and she 
never mentioned the leastest word about it 
under the light of the livin' sun." 

" If I was only sure of that !" said Josh, 
laying down the toast-iron and sticking his 
knuckles into his right eye. 

"Joshy, my boy," said the old woman, "I 
do n't believe Hannah Downer ever gin Peet 
Spinbutton the leastest encouragement in the 
universal world." 

" Think so ?" asked Josh, setting his el- 
bows on his knees, his chin in his fists, and 
fixing his eyes vacantly downward in an an- 



123 

gle of forty-five degrees, as if in intense admi- 
ration of the back-1 )g. 

" I '11 tell you what, Joshy," said Mrs Bean- 
pole, in a motherly tone, "do you just put on 
your go-to-meetin' suit, and go to see Hannah 
this blessed night." 

" Eh !" exclaimed Josh, starting from his 
elbows at the astounding boldness of the sug- 
gestion, and gazing straight up the chimney. 
"Dj you think she 'd let me?" 

" Nothin' like tryin', Joshy; — must be a 
first time. Besides, the old folks are going 
to lecture, Hannah '11 be all alone — hey ! 
Joshy, my boy ! — Nothin' like tryin'." 

" Eh ! eh !" said Josh, screwing himself 
all up in a heap and staring most desperately 
at the lower button of his own waistcoat — 
for the thoughts of actually going a courting 
came over him in a most alarming fashion ; 
"would ye though, mother? Hannah's a 
nice gai, but somehow or other I feel plaguy 
queer about it." 

"Oh, that's quite naiteral, Joshy; when 
you once get a goin' it be nothin' at all." 

" Higgle, giggle, giggle," said Josh, making 
a silly, sputtering kind of laugh — " that 's 
the very thing I 'm afraid of, that 'ere gettin' 
a goin' — Hannah Downer is apt to be tarna- 



124 



tion smart sometimes ; and I 've hearn tj^ll, 
that courtin' is the hardest thing in the world 
to begin, though it goes on so sUck arter- 
wards." 

" Nonsense, Josh, you silly dough-head ; 
it 's only saying two words, and it all goes 
as straight as a turnpike." 

" By the hokey !" said Josh, rolling up his 
eyes and giving a punch with his fist in the 
air, " I ' ve an all-fired mind to try it though !" 

Josh and his mother held a much longer 
colloquy upon the matter, the result of which 
was such an augmentation of his courage for 
the undertaking, that the courtship was ab- 
solutely decided upon ; and just after dark, 
Josh gave his face a sound scrubbing with 
soap suds, drew forth his Sunday pantaloons, 
which were of the brightest cow-color, and 
after a good deal of labor, succeeded in get- 
ting into them, his legs being somewhat of 
the longest, and the pantaloons as tight as a 
glove, so that on seeing him fairly incased, it 
was somewhat of a puzzle to guess how he 
could ever get out of them. A flaming red 
waistcoat, and a gray coat with broad pewter 
buttons, set off" his figure to the greatest ad- 
vantage, to say nothing of a pair of bran new 
cpw-hide shoes. Then rubbing his long hair 



JOSH beanpole's courtship. 125 

with a tallow candle, and sprinkling a handful 
of Indian meal by way of powder, he twisted 
it behind with a leather string into a formid- 
able queue, which he drew so tight that it 
was with the greatest difficulty he could shut 
his eyes ; but this gave him but little con- 
cern, as he was determined to be wide awake 
through the whole affair. Being all equipt, 
he mounted Old Blueberry, and set off at an 
easy trot, which very soon fell into a walk, 
for the nearer Josh approached the dwelling 
of his Diilcinea, the more the thought of his 
great undertaking overpowered him. 

Josh rode four times round the house before 
he found courage to alight ; at length he 
made a desperate effort and pulled up under 
the lee side of the barn, where he dismount- ' 
ed, tied his horse, and approached the house 
with fear and trembling. At two rods dis- 
tance he stopped short. There was a dead 
silence, and he stood in awful irresolution. 
.AH at once a terrible voice, close at hand, 
caused him to start with great trepidation : — 
it was nothing but a couple of turkeys who 
had set up a gobbling from their roost on the 
top of the barn. Josh looked up, and beheld 
by the hght of the moon, the old turkey cosily 
perched by the side of his mate : the sight 



126 



was overpowering. "Ah! happy, happy 
turkey !" he mentally exclaimed, and turned 
about to proceed up the yard, but the next 
moment felt a violent cut across the broadest 
part of his nose. He started back again, but 
discovered it to be only a clothes-line which 
he had run against — '' The course of true 
love never did run smooth." He went fear- 
fully on, thinking of the connubial felicities 
of the turkey tribe, and the perils of clothes- 
lines, till he found himself at the door, where 
he stood fifteen minutes undetermined what 
to do ; and if he had not bethought himself of 
the precaution of peeping in at the window, it 
is doubtful whether he would have mustered 
the courage to enter. But peep he did, and 
spied Hannah all alone at her knitting-work. 
This sight emboldened him, and he bolted in 
without knocking. 

What precise sort of compliments Josh 
made use of in introducing himself, never 
could be discovered, for Josh labored under 
such a confusion of the brain at the time, that 
he lost all recollection of what passed till he 
found himself seated in a flag-bottomed chair 
with a most uncomfortable deep hollow in it. 
He looked up, and actually saw Hannah sit- 
ting in the chimney corner knitting a pepper- 
and-salt stocking. 



127 



"Quite industrious to-night," said Josh. 

" Do n't know that," repHed Hannah. 

'' Sure on 't," returned Josh. " Guess now 
you 've knit from four to six pearl at the low- 
est calculation." 

''Shouldn't wonder," replied Hannah. 

" Tarnation !" said Josh, pretending lo be 
struck with admiration at the exploit, though 
he knew it was nothing to boast of. 

" How 's your mother, Josh 7" asked Han- 
nah. 

"Pretty considerable smart, Hannah; 
how 's your mother?" 

"So, so," replied Hannah ; and here the 
conversation came to a stand. 

Josh fumbled in his pockets and stuck his 
legs out till they reached nearly across the 
room, in hopes to think of something more to 
say ; but in vain. He then scratched his 
head, but there appeared to be nothing in it. 
" Is 't possible," thought he, " that I 'm actu- 
ally here a courting?" He could hardly be- 
lieve it, and began to feel very awkward. 

"I swow!" he exclaimed, opening his 
eyes as wide as he could. 

"What's the matter?" asked Hannah, a 
little startled. 

" Cotch a 'tarnal great musquash this fore- 



128 JOSH beanpole's courtship. 

'' Ah ! said Hannah, '' How big was it?" 

" Big as all ont-doors !" 

'' Lawful heart !" exclaimed Hannah. 

Josh now felt a little more at his ease, find- 
ing the musquash helped him on so bravely. 
He hitched his chair about seven feet at a 
single jerk, nearer to Hannah, and exclaimed, 
*' Tell ye what, Hannah, I 'm all creation for 
catching musquashes." 

'^ Well, I want to know !" replied Hannah. 

Josh twisted his eyes into a squint, and 
gave her a look of melting tenderness. Han- 
nah perceived it, and did not know whether 
to laugh or be scared ; so, to compromise the 
matter, she pretended to be taken with a fit of 
coughing. Josh felt his heart begin to beat, 
and was fully convinced he was courting or 
something very hke it; but what to do next 
was the question. "Shall I kiss her?" 
thought he. " No, no, it 's a leetle too early for 
that; but I'll tell her I love her." At this 
thought his heart went bump ! bump! bump! 
harder than ever. '' Hannah !" he exclaimed 
in a squeaking voice, and stopped short. 

" Hey ! Josh," said Hannah. 

" Hannah, I I " he rolled up the 

whites of his eyes in a most supplicating leer, 
but the word stuck in his throat. Hannah 



JOSH beanpole's courtship. 129 

looked directly in bis face : he was in a 
dreadful puzzle what to say, for he was 
obliged to say something. His eye fell by 
accident on a gridiron hanging in the chimney 
corner — " What a terrible crack your gridi- 
ron 's got in it !" exclaimed he. 

"Poh!" said Hannah. 

Here the conversation came again to a dead 
stop, for Josh had so exhausted himself in 
this effort to break the ice, that he was not 
master of his faculties for several minutes ; 
and when he came fairly to his senses, he 
found himself counting the tickings of an old 
wooden clock that stood in the corner. He 
counted and counted till he had numbered 
three hundred and ninetyseven ticks, when 
he luckily heard a cow lowing out of doors. 

"Ugh !" said he, "whose cow's that?" 

"Drummer Tucker's," replied Hannah. 

" Drummer Tucker's ! Well, I want to 
know !" 

This reply suggested an idea. " Hannah," 
asked he, " did you ever see a dromedary ?" 

" No, — did 2/o?<, Josh?" 

" No," returned Josh, " I never see nothin' 
in my life but a green monkey ; and then I 
was a'most skeered to death !" 

" Lawful heart ! Mercy's sake !" exclaim- 
9 



130 JOSH beanpole's courtship. 

ed Hannah, and here the conversation came 
to a pause again. 

The longer they sat, the more awkwardly 
Josh found himself situated : he sat bolt up- 
right in his chair, with his knees close togeth- 
er and his head stooping forward in such a 
manner that his long queue stuck out hori- 
zontally behind, and his eyes stuck out hori- 
zontally before, like those of a lobster. For 
several minutes he sat contemplating the han- 
dle of the warming-pan that hung by the side 
of the fireplace ; and then gradually elevat- 
ing his line of vision, came in sight of a huge 
crook-necked squash lying on the mantel- 
piece. Then he looked at Hannah, and then 
at the dish-cloth in the mouth of the oven, 
and from the dish-cloth made a transition 
back to the warming-pan. " Courting," 
thought Josh, " is awful hard work." The 
perspiration stood on his forehead, and his 
eel-skin queue pulled so tight that he began 
to fear the top of his head was coming off; 
but not a word could he say. And just at 
that moment a green stick of wood upon the 
fire began to sing in a dismal tone, " Qwe, 
que^ que^ que^ queP Nothing frets the nerves 
more when a body is a little fidgetty, than 
the singing and sputtering of a stick of wood. 



JOSH beanpole's courtship. 131 

Josh felt worse than ever, but the stick kept 
on, que^ que^ que^ quiddle^ de dee, que, que, 
quiddledy qiiiddledy que, que, que, — Josh 
caught up the tongs and gave the fire a tre- 
mendous poke. This exertion somewhat re- 
lieved him. 

" Hannah !" said he, hitching his chair a 
yard nearer. 

" Well, Josh." 

Now, thought Josh, I will tell her I love 

her. — "Hannah," said he again, "I" 

He stared so wildly and made such a horrible 
grimace that Hannah bounced from her chair. 
*' Hannah, I say," repeated he — but here 
again his courage failed him. 

"What say. Josh?" 

"I I it's a grand time for tur- 
nips," said Josh. '• Ugh ! ugh ! ugh !" 

" Poh !" returned Hannah, "let alone of 
my apron-string, you Josh !" 

Josh sat in silence and despair for some 
time longer, growing more and more nervous 
every moment. Presently the stick of wood 
burst out squeaking again in the most doleful 
style imaginable, Quiddledy, quiddledy quee- 
ee-ee-iddledy, que, que quiddledy quiddledy que 
que que-ee-ee-ee-ee-ee — Josh could not bear 
it any longer, for he verily believed his skull- 



132 



bone was splitting. " I swaggers !" he ex- 
claimed, " this is too bad 1" 

" What 's the matter, Josh T^ asked Han- 
nah in considerable alarm. 

"Suthin' ails me," said Josh. 

'' Dear me !" exclaimed Hannah, '' sha' n't 
I get you a mug of cider?" 

^'Do," replied Josh, "for I don't feel as I 
used to did." 

Hannah ran down cellar and returned with 
a quart mug of cider. Josh put it to his 
lips and took a heavy pull. It was what the 
farmers call hard cider, and Josh verily feared 
his eyes would start out of his head while he 
was drinking it, but after several desperate 
gulps he succeeded in draining the mug. 
Then pulling a blue and white check hand- 
kerchief from his pocket, he rubbed his face 
very hard, and looked straight into the fire. 

But in a few minutes he found his spirits 
wonderfully rising; he lifted up his eyes, 
hitched his chair nearer, sent Hannah a sly 
look, and actually gave a loud giggle. Han- 
nah giggled in reply, for giggling, like gaping, 
is contagious. In two minutes more, his 
courage rose higher; he threw one of his 
long legs across the other, gave a grin, slap- 
ped his hand upon his knee, and exclaimed 
as bold as a lion, 



133 

** Hannah, — if a young feller was for to 
go to offer for to kiss you, what 'd ye think 
ye should do?" Having uttered these words, 
he stopped short, his mouth wide open, in 
gaping astonishment at his own temerity. 

If Hannah did not blush, it was probably 
owing to her being at that moment engaged 
in blowing the fire at a desperate rate with an 
enormous pair of broken-winded bellows, 
which occupation had set her all in a blowze. 
She understood the hint, and replied, 

'' Guess ye 'd better not try, Josh." 

Whether this was intended as a warning, 
or an invitation, never could be satisfactorily 
known. Josh did not stop to inquire, but 
he thought it too good a chance to be lost: 
^' I 'il kiss her ! by Golly !" he exclaimed to 
himself. He made a bounce from his chair 
and seized the nozzle of the bellows, which 
Hannah was sticking at that moment under 
a huge iron pot over the fire. Now, in this 
pot were apples a stewing, and so it happened 
that Hannah, in the confusion occasioned by 
the visit of Josh, had made a mistake and put 
in sour apples instead of sweet ones: sour 
apples when cooking, every body knows, are 
apt to explode like bomb-shells. Hannah had 
been puffing at the bellows with might and 



134 

main, and raised the heat to a mischievous 
degree; — there was no safety-valve in the 
pot-Hd, and just as Josh was upon the point 
of snatching a kiss, whop ! the whole contents 
of the pot Avent off in their faces ! 

At the same moment the door flew open, 
and the whole Downer family came in from 
meeting. Such a sight as they beheld ! 
There stood Josh, beplastered with apple- 
sauce from head to foot, and frightened worse 
than if he had seen a green monkey. Han- 
nah made her escape, and left Josh to explain 
the catastrophe. He rolled up his eyes in 
utter dismay. "What is the matter!" ex- 
claimed Peggy Downer. '^ Ugh ! ugh ! ugh !" 
replied Josh, and that was all he could say. 
" Goodness' sake ! Josh Beanpole ! is that 
you 7" asked mother Downer, for Josh was 
so beplastered, beluted and transubstantiated 
by the apple-sauce that she did not at first dis- 
cover who it was. — "1 d'n know — no n't 1," 
said Josh. — " What a spot o' work !" ex- 
claimed Peggy. Josh looked down at his 
pantaloons — " Oh ! forever I" he exclaimed, 
" this beats the gineral trainin' !" 

How matters were explained, and how 
Josh got safe home, I cannot stop to explain. 
As to the final result of the courtship, the 



JOSH beanpole's courtship. 135 

reader may as well be informed that Josh had 
too much genuine Yankee resolution to be 
beaten away from his prize by a broadside of 
baked apples. In fact, it was but a few 
months afterwards, that Deacon Powder- 
post, the town clerk, was digging all alone in 
the middle of his ten-acre potato field, and 
spied Josh Beanpole looming up over the top 
of the hill. Josh looked all around the hori- 
zon, and finding no other living soul to be 
seen, came shambling over the potato hills, 
and got right behind the Deacon, where in 
about a quarter of an hour he mustered cour- 
age sufficient to ask him to step aside, as he 
had a communication for his private ear. To 
make a long story short, Josh and Hannah 
were published the next Sunday. 



METAPHYSICS. 



" Do you think Aristotle is right, wlien he says that relatives 
are related ? " Vicar of Wakefield. 



The old hermit of Prague, that never saw 
pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of 
King Gorboduc, ^^thai that is, is." Most 
people who possess the old hermit's happy 
ignorance, are of the same opinion ; but, 
strange to say, an acquaintance with pen 
and ink and things of that sort, is very apt to 
reverse this opinion. No sooner do we begin 
to study metaphysics, than we find how egre- 
gious! y we have been mistaken, in supposing 
that " Master Parson is really Master Par- 
son." 

I, for my part, have a high opinion of 
metaphysical studies, and think the science 
a very useful one, because it teaches people 
what sheer nobodies they are. The only 
objection is, they are not disposed to lay this 
truth sufficiently to heart, but continue to 
give themselves airs, just as if some-folks 
were really some-folks. Old Doctor Sober- 



METAPHYSICS. 137 

sides, the minister of Pumpkinville, where I 
Hved in my youth, was one of the metaphy- 
sical divines of the old school, and conld cavil 
upon the ninth part of a hair about entities 
and quiddities, nominalism and realism, free 
will and necessity, with which sort of learning 
he used to stuff his sermons and astound 
his learned hearers, the bumpkins. They 
never doubted that it was all true, but were 
apt to say, with the old woman in Moliere : 

11 parle si bien que je n'entend goutte. 

T remember a conversation that happened 
at my grandfather's, in which the Doctor had 
some difficulty in making his metaphysics all 
'' as clear as preaching." There was my 
grandfather, videlicet my grandfather; Uncle 
Tim, who was the greatest hand at raising 
onions in our part of the county, but " not 
knowing metaphysics, had no notion of the 
true reason of his not being sad; " my Aunt 
Judy Keturah Titterwell, who could knit 
stockings hke all possest, but could not syllo- 
gize ; Malachi Muggs, our hired man, that 
drove the oxen, and Isaac Thrasher, the dis- 
trict schoolmaster, who had dropped in to 
warm his fingers and get a drink of cider. 
Something was under discussion, and my 
grandfather could make nothing of it ; but the 
Doctor said it was "metaphysically true." 



138 METAPHYSICS. 

" Pray, Doctor," said Uncle Tim, '' tell me 
something about metaphysics; I have often 
heard of that science, but never for my hfe 
could find out what it was." 

" Metaphysics," said the Doctor, "is the 
science of abstractions." 

" I 'm no wiser for that explanation," said 
Uncle Tim. 

" It treats," said the Doctor, " of matters 
most profound and sublime, a little difficult 
perhaps for a common intellect or an un- 
schooled capacity to fathom, but not the less 
important, on that account, to all living be- 
ings." 

*' What does it teach? " asked the school- 
master. 

"It is not applied so much to the operation 
of teaching," answered the Doctor, " as to 
that of inquiring ; and the chief inquiry is, 
whether things are, or whether they are not." 

" I do n't understand the question," said 
Uncle Tim, taking the pipe out of his mouth. 

" For example, whether this earth on which 
we tread," said the Doctor, giving a heavy 
stamp on the floor, and setting his foot slap 
on the cat's tail, " whether this earth does 
really exist, or whether it does not exist." 

" That is a point of considerable conse- 
quence to settle," said my grandfather. 



METAPHYSICS. 139 

*' Especially," added the schoolmaster, " to 
the holders of real estate." 

"Now the earth," continued the Doctor, 
" may exist" — 

'' Who the dogs ever doubted that?" asked 
Uncle Tim. 

'' A great many men," said the Doctor, 
" and some very learned ones." 

Uncle Tim stared a moment, and then 
began to fill up his pipe, whistling the tune of 
High Betty Martin, while the Doctor went on. 

— " The earth, I say, may exist, although 
Bishop Berkley has proved beyond all possible 
gainsaying or denial, that it does not exist. 
The case is clear ; the only difficulty is, to 
know whether we shall believe it or not." 

'' And how," asked Uncle Tim, " is all this 
to be found out?" 

" By digging down to the first principles," 
answered the Doctor. 

''Ay," interrupted Malachi, ''there is 
nothing equal to the spade and pickaxe." 

" That is true," said my grandfather, going 
on in Malachi's way, " h is by digging for the 
foundation that we shall find out whether the 
world exists or not ; for, if we dig to the bot- 
tom of the earth and find a foundation — why 
then we are sure of it. But if we find no 



140 METAPHYSICS. 

foundation, it is clear that the world stands 
upon nothing, or. in other words, that it does 
not stand at all ; therefore, it stands to 
reason " — 

'' I beg your pardon," interrupted the Doc- 
tor, '' but you totally mistake me ; I use the 
word digging metaphorically, meaning the 
profoundest cogitation and research into the 
nature of things. That is the way in which 
we may ascertain whether things are or 
whether they are not.'^ 

" But if a man can't believe his eyes," said 
Uncle Tim, ^' what signifies talking about 
it?" 

"Our eyes," said the Doctor, "are nothing 
at all but the inlets of sensation, and when 
we see a thing, all we are aware of is, that 
we have a sensation of it; we are not sure 
that the thing exists. We are sure of nothing 
that we see with our eyes." 

"Not without spectacles," said Aunt Judy. 

"Plato, for instance, maintains that the 
sensation of any object is produced by a per- 
petual succession of copies, images or coun- 
terfeits streaming off from the object to the 
organs of sensation. Descartes, too, has 
explained the matter upon the principle of 
whirligigs." 



METAPHYSICS. 141 

"But does the world exist?" asked the 
schoolmaster. 

" A good deal may be said on both sides,'' 
replied the Doctor, " though the ablest heads 
are for non-existence." 

"In common cases," said Uncle Tim, 
" those who utter nonsense are considered 
blockheads." 

" But in metaphysics," said the Doctor, 
'' the case is different." 

" Now all this is hocus pocus to me," said 
Aunt Judy, suspending her knitting work, 
and scratching her forehead with one of the 
needles. " 1 don't understand a bit more of 
the business than I did at first." 

" I '11 be bound there is many a learned pro- 
fessor," said Uncle Tim, " could say the same 
after spinning a long yarn of metaphysics." 

The Doctor did not admire this gibe at his 
favorite science. " That is as the case may 
be," said he; "this thing or that thing may 
be dubious, but what then? Doubt is the 
beginning of wisdom." 

"No doubt of that," said my grandfather, 
beginning to poke the fire, " but when a man 
has got through his doubting, what does he 
begin to build upon in the metaphysical 
way?" 



142 METAPHYSICS. 

"Why, he begins by taking something for 
granted," said the Doctor. 

'' But is that a sure way of going to work 7 " 

'"T is the only thing he can do," repUed 
the Doctor, after a pause, and rubbing his 
forehead as if he was not altogether satisfied 
that his foundation was a solid one. My 
grandfather might have posed him with an- 
other question, but he poked the fire and let 
him go on. 

" Metaphysics, to speak exactly," — 

" Ah," interrupted the schoolmaster, '' bring 
it down to vulgar fractions and then we shall 
understand it." 

" 'T is the consideration of immateriality, or 
the mere spirit and essence of things." 

"Come, come," said Aunt Judy, taking a 
pinch of snutf, "now I see into it." 

" Thus, man is considered, not in his cor- 
poreality, but in his essence or capability of 
being ; for a man metaphysically, or to meta- 
physical purposes, hath two natures, that of 
spirituality and that of corporeity, which may 
be considered separate." 

" What man? " asked Uncle Tim. 

"Why any man ; Malachi there, for ex- 
ample, I may consider him as Malachi spiri- 
tual or Malachi corporal." 



METAPHYSICS. 



143 



"That is true," said Malachi, "for when 1 
was in the miUtia, they made me a sixteenth 
corporal, and I carried grog to the drummer." 
" That is another affair," said the Doctor, 
in continuation, " we speak of man in his 
essence; we speak also of the essence of 
locality, the essence of duration " — !?/^Di 

" And essence of peppermint," said Aunt 
Judy. 

" Pooh ! " said the Doctor, " the essence I 
mean is quite a different concern." 

" Something too fine to be dribbled through 
the worm of a still," said my grandfather. 

" Then I am all in the dark again," re- 
joined Aunt Judy. 

" By the spirit and essence of things I mean 
things in the abstract." 

"And what becomes of a thing when it 
gets into the abstract?" asked Uncle Tim. 
" Why, it becomes an abstraction." 
"There we are again," said Uncle Tim; 
"but what the deuce is an abstraction? " 

" It 's a thing that has no matter ; that is, 
it cannot be felt, seen, heard, smelt or tasted ; 
it has no substance or solidity ; it is neither 
large nor small, hot nor cold, long nor short." 
" Then what is the long and the short of 
it 7 " asked the schoolmaster. 



144 METAPHYSICS. 

'^ Abstraction," replied the Doctor. 

"Suppose, for instance," said Malachi, 
'' that I had a pitchfork " — — 

''Ay," said the Doctor, "consider a pitch- 
fork in general ; that is, neither this one nor 
that one, nor any particular one, but a pitch- 
fork or pitchforks divested of their materiality 
— these are things in the abstract." 

" They are things in the hay-mow," said 
Malachi. 

"Pray," said Uncle Tim, "have there been 
many such things discovered?" 

" Discovered ! " returned the Doctor, " why 
all things, whether in heaven or upon the 
earth, or in the waters under the earth, 
whether small or great, visible or invisible, 
animate or inanimate ; — whatever the eye 
can see, or the ear can hear, or the nose can 
smell, or the fingers touch ; finally, whatever 
exists or is imaginable in rerum natiira^ past, 
present, or to come, — all may be abstrac- 
tions." 

"Indeed ! " said Uncle Tim, " pray what 
do you make of the abstraction of a red cow ? " 

" A red cow," said the Doctor, " considered 
metaphysically, or as an abstraction, is an 
animal possessing neither hide nor horns, 
bones nor flesh, but is the mere type, eidolonj 



METAPHYSICS. 145 

and fantastical semblance of these parts of a 
quadruped. It has a shape without any sub- 
stance, and no color at all, for its redness is 
the mere counterfeit or imagination of such. 
As it lacks the positive, so is it also deficient 
in the accidental properties of all the animals 
of its tribe, for it has no locomotion, stability, 
or endurance, neither goes to pasture, gives 
milk, chews the cud, nor performs any other 
function of a horned beast, but is a mere 
creature of the brain, begotten by a freak of 
the fancy, and nourished by a conceit of the 
imagination." 

"A dog's foot!" exclaimed Aunt Judy, 
'' all the metaphysics under the sun would n't 
make a pound of butter." 

" That 's a fact ! " said Uncle Tim. 



10 



THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 



CAN TO I . 

It is an ancient pedler-man, 

That peddleth poltes of tinne ; 
And he stoppeth Deacon Edmund Stokes, 

As the meeting did beginne. 
" Now wherefore dost thou stoppe me here ? 

Thou man of muckle sinne ! 

" The meeting-house is open wide, 

And the minister is there. 
So lette me goe, I must make haste, 

Or I shall lose the prayer." 

He holds him by the button faste, 

" Do n't give me the siippe ! " quoth he. 
Whereat the Deacon hilte him a cufFe, 
And said, " You rogue ! get out with youre stuffe 
Is this the time for a spree ? " 

Quoth the pedler, " Deacon, that is n't faire, 

Do n't aggravate your choler. 
You talk so gravelie aboute a prayer, 

But you 're thinking of a dollar." 

And the pedler bolde still kept faste holde, 
And close to the fence did hie him. '^ 

And bothe were sitting on a raile, 

While hee beganne to telle his tale, 

And the Deacon's hearte for feare did quaile. 
Lest somebodie should spie him. 



RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 147 

*' The coaste was clear'd, and offe I steer'd, 

Merrilie I did tfotte 
O'er Roxbury necke and Dedham roade. 

Lighte paire of heeles, I wotte. 

The sunue rose oute of Boston Baye 

Fulle halfe an houre too soone ; 
For I stole awaye before 't was daye, 

At the setting of the moone. " — 
And here the Deacon scratched his heade, 

He heard the loude psahne-tune. 

The parson in the pulpitte stands; 

Grave as an owle is hee ; 
Nodding their heades in silence sitte 

The ghostlie companie. 
And some admire his reverend wigge, 

And some his divinitie. 

Olde Deacon Ned, he scratch'd his heade, 

With many a gape and stare, 
While thus went on with his long yame, 

That pedler of tinne-ware. 

At length did crosse an old black horse, 

Oute of the fielde he came. 
His taile was cropp'd, and his nose was blue, 
Just like the one I swopp'd with you. 

And Dobbin was his name. 

He trotted straight up to my side, 

And rounde and rounde I eyed him ; 
I felt abitte of an antic fitte, 

And soe I jump'd astride him." 

" Dogges take thee ! ancient pedler-man ! 

My wittes are at a losse. 
Why squint'st thou soe ?" Why DeacoUj'you knows 

I STOLE THE OLDE BLACK HORSE ! 



148 EIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 



, C A N T II. 

And I grewe daft that jollie time^ 

And presentlie I grewe dafter, 
A jollie time I a jollie time ! 

I 'd nearlie splitte with laughter, 
When looking backwarde, I behelde 

A something coming after. 

At firste it seem'd a little dogge, 

And then it seem'd a cowe, 
And it grewe and grewe, till it look'd juste like 

A constable, I swowe I 

Ah mee ! I growl'd within my gummes 

As that ma,gic shape drewe neare, 
" Is that olde Catchpole now that comes, 

To twitche me by the eare ? 
Is it hee thatbawles with leathern lungs. 

Like a Milke-streete auctioneers ? " 

And he cried, " Ho ! ho ! wherever you goej, 

Close at your heeles I '11 followe ! " 
Gramercy ! then I oflf did scoure ' H3 

Swearing in lesse than halfe an boure 
To distance him alle hollowe. 

Like one that scrambles downe the streete. 

His heeles in quicktime clapping. 
And faster and faster pulles aheade, 

The winde his coate-taile flapping ; 
Because he heares a greate madde dogge 

Behinde him snarling and snapping. 

Flie Dobbin, fiie ! more highe ! more highe ! 

And over the mountaines fetche me ! 
For not so slowe doth the constable goe, 

But yette he *s a chance to catche me. 



RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 149 

The western skie was all aflame, 

The daye was well nighe done. 
The constable almoste gave it uppe. 

And thought himselfe outrunne, 
"When Dobbin stumbled suddenlie, 

And I felle with a terrible siunne ! 

All in a swound I laye on the grounde, 

Yet Dobbin aheade did goe, 
And gallopping by did the constable flie 

Like the whizz of my crossbowe ! 

How long in that same swounde I laye, 

I really can't declare, 
For I 'm not us'd to fainting fittes, 
But I heard as soone as I came to my witt€s, 

Two voices in the aire. 

*' Egad ! ^' quoth one, " 'twill be rare funne, 

Suche a rogue to come acrosse ! 
Into what slye hole can the rascall have stole, 

That stole the olde blacke horse ? " 

The other hadde a squeaking voice, 

Yette he swore woundilie too, 
Quoth hee, " The knave hath mischiefe done, 

And mischiefe more wille doe." 



CANTO III, 

Deacon. 
But telle me, telle me, beginne againe, 

For my braines in wonder are stewing ; 
Sticke to the truthe, and telle me plaine, 

What was the constable doing ? 



150 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 

Pedler. 

Stille as a mouse I lurking laye, 
But juste as I thoughte him past, 

His greate white eye all roguishlie 
Righte in my face he caste. 

And he cried, " Oho ! my ladde, juste soe 
Shoulde a knave gette serv'd for his sinnes.! 

See ! neighbor, see ! how prettilie 
He 's batter'd his pate and shinnes ! " 

A scolding wife and a squalling bratte 

Are things to make men flie ,- 
A rattlesnake or a stoute wilde-catte 

I 'd rather not come nighe. 
But a scarecrow worse than this or that, 

Is the squinte of a catchpole's eye ! 

Itrais'd my haire,it singed my cheeke, 
Like a dogge-daye sunne in spring; 

And I reallie felte some awkward feares 
Of dangling in a string. 

And quicke as a maggot I started uppe> 

And over the fence I flew, 
Swiftlie, swiftlie hard at my heeles 

Did bothe of those menne pursue. 

I dodg'd them here, I dodg'd them there, 

I dodg'd them all arounde, 
And snarl'd and scowl'd and grumbled and growl'd 

Like a madde buUe in a pounde. 

I slipp'd like a snake, through brier and brake, 

And ledde them a gallopping heate ; 
And over the wheate, and over the rye, 
And rounde the stumpes, but 't was all my eye, 
I knew I shoulde soone be beate. 



RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 151 

Alone, alone ! all, all alone 

I rannewith armes akimbo. 
But two to one is a terril>le oddes, 
And when I had ledde them a hundred roddes 

I founde myselfe in limbo ! 



CANTO IV. 

I felte him, horrid constable ! 

Ifelte his skinny hande ; 
Slap on my shoulder-blade it felle. 

And broughte me to a stande. 

Ifelte him with his greate white eye, 
And his horny clinchers browne. 

The strapping loone was sixe feete highe, 
Or I coulde have knock'd him downe. 

He had a monstrous copper ncrse, 

All fiery at the tippe ; 
Upon my word it seem'd as bigge 

As the figure-heade of a shippe, 
'T was hook'd, as ofte greate noses are, 
Like the new moone, but redder farre, 
And he puff 'd a huge long-nine cigarre 

Within his nether lippe. 

The constable soe beautiful 

Cried " Stande a little stiller ! " 

And a thousand thousand funnie jokes, — 

It 's my opinion, Deacon Stokes, 

They were stole from Joseph Miller. 

I look'd upon his greate redde nose, 
And grinn'd like a Cheshire catte. 
And we kept joking, cutte and thruste, 
But I rather thinke he gotte the worste, 
For I gave him titte for tatte. 



152 RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 

Quoth he, " Your fate would cause to yeame, 

My bowels — if I hadde 'em, 
For I shall grippe you faste untille 
You reache that house near Bunker's Hille, 

Where you shall pound Mac Addam. 

Q,uoth I, in spite of certaine feares, 
" Old Catehpole, that 's a whopper ! 

I 'm readie, by Jove ! to bette my eares 
Againste a Bungtowne copper." 

The hills were brighte in the sweete moone-lighte ; 

How I long'd to scamper o'er them ! 
But my two friendes at fingers' ends, 

Did marche me close before them, 
To the taverne-house where Daniel Dobbs 
Sells breade and cheese and does odde jobbs, 

As a justice of the Gluorum. 

Is that his signe-poste all out of jointe, 
That creaking swings in the aire ? 

Is this his doore all gnaw'd by the rattes ? 

Are these his windowes fulleof olde hattes ? 
Is that his ladye fair ? 

Her cheekes were redde, her chinne was blue. 

Her lockes were yellowe as gold, 
Her neck was thicke and her nose askewe ; 
I 'd have kiss'd the wenche, but that would n't do, 

Because she was saucie and bolde. 

The taverne-man alongside came, 

Quoth he, " Take my advice. 
And the job shall be done for the sonne of a gunne, 

Ere you wette your whistle twice. 



RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 153 

I shudder'd and look'd sideways uppe. 
Says I, " Give me a goode stiffe cuppe 

Of stingoe now to sippe, 
Smalle beere is thin, and 't is chilly to nighte, 
Colde water makes my face looke white, 

And gives me a paine in the hippe." 
Then juste as the doore was standing ajarre, 
I peep'd and saw the man at the barre 

Mixing a mugge of flippe. 

Quoth tlie taverne-man, " This rogue is nowe 

Five dollars on my score. 
I chalk 'd it upp three months agoe 

Behinde the kitchen doore." 
" T is a monstrous lie, you knave," said I, 

" 1 never was here before." 

And the bolte of that doore, it sounded sore 

Like a 'tarnal dungeon bitter. 
Oh howe I wish'd to be walking abroade ! 
But the constable he kept watche and warde, 

And I satte in a terrible twitter. 

That taverne-man went uppe the staires. 

And to his cocke-lofte hied, 
Slylie as he went oute the doore. 

The catchpole wink'd and cry'd, 
" This pedler rogue shall paye the bills 

And a swigge of punche beside." 

Then on a benche his giant limmes 

Sixe feete and more he spreade. 
But where his heade's huge shadowe laye. 
That fierie nose did burne alwaye, 

A stille and awful redde . 



154 RIME OF THE ANCIENT FEDLER. 

I squinted slie with my left eye 

And twigg'd his queere attire. 
'T was bottle greene and brimstone blue, 
A shivering horror shotte me throughe, 

As I satte by the fire. 

And I thought to sing some merrie glee 
To sette my frighten'd noddle free 

From thoughts of going to jaile, 
So I tried " Opossum uppe a gumme tree, 

And pulle him down by the taile." 

A charming songe, but it all wente wronge 

And sette me to pshawing and pishing. 
And next I tried " The Tongs and the Bones." 
But the verie Olde Harrie was in the tones, 
For you never hearde such dismal moanes 
In all your going a fishing. 

O ! sleepe ! it is a charming thinge ! 

For I sunk dreaming downe. 
And a magick sounde was in my eares, 
'T was not the musick of the spheres, 

But the noise of Boston towne. 

Sometimes a peale of merrie notes 
The Olde Southe bell did ring. 
Sometimes I hearde the truckmen sweare. 
And Broade-streete Paddies fille the aire 
With their sweete jargoning. 

Itceas'd, yet stillemy eares kept on 
A noise that 's most appalling — 

A noise as of tom-cattes in fighte, 
With mickle furie squalling ; 

Keeping folkes wide awake at nighte 
With their sweete caterwauling. 



RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 155 

And then burste oute a thundering shoute ; 

I thoughte the earthe was quaking. 
Suche a clatter sounds in Funnell-Halle 
When ratte-trappe Adams tries to bawle, 
And the cits for funne immenselie squalle, 

Their sides with laughter shaking. 

And then againe, it seem'd a straine 

Of sweete "hey diddle diddle, 
Prut tirra-lirra creako crack," 
A jigging tune which Cuffie blacke 

Doth scrape upon a fiddle. 

Ten thousand steame-boates then let flie, 

And I heard hotte water pouring, 
And then long time in grand sublime 

'T was all Mount Etna roaring. 
In frighte I started from my snooze, 
'T was nothing more, by these olde shooes, 

Than the constable a snoring ! 

The clocke struck one ; — now cutte and runne ! 

Goode lucke to you for a lodger ! 
I made three steppes and a halfe to goe ; 
The constable woke and bawl'd " Hollo !" 

But I cried, ' Avast ! olde codger !" 
Then I crook 'd my elbowe as he rose, 
And aim'd my fiste at his bottle nose, 

And hitte him a lustie podger ! 

That bottle nose burste forthe a sneeze, 

And an hundred pimples sheene. 
To and fro flash'd sparkles oute, 
And to and fro that Bardolphe snoute 

Made the echoes roare, I weene. 



156 RTME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 

Then like a pawing horse lette goe, 

I made a sudden bounde. 
And I "wente righte smashe, through the windowe sashe, 

But insteade of lighting on grounde, 
Plumpe down I felle in a dismal welle, 

'Twas ten to one I had drown'd. 

The roofe broke through, and the bucket too, 

'T was darke as darke could bee, 
And soe, heeles firste, with a crashe I burste 

Into that silent sea. 

In the water deepe I stucke awhile, 

Faste anchor'd; I've a notion. 
And my heade peep'd oute like Noddle's Isle 

Above th' Atlanticke Ocean. 
Ah mee ! I blubber'd many a sobbe, 
And uppe and downe my chinne did bobbe 

With a shorte, uneasie motion. 

Water, water, everywhere, 

Uppe to my eares did come. 
Water, water, everywhere 

But not a droppe of rumme ! 

The taverne-manne came to the welle 

And drewe me uppe to the brimme, 
His wife and hee pull'd at the rope, 

But shee said nought to himm 
Till shee spied me drench'd so piteouslie, 
Then she cried, O ludd ! goode lacke ! I see 

The devill knowes howe to swimm ! 

Then slylie hee touch'd the side of his nose, 

With one side of his thumtbe. 
And thrice hee wink'd in a knowing waye, 

And then saide gravelie " Come ! " 
You '11 paye mee twentie dollars downe, 

And forever I '11 be mumme. 



RIME OF THE ANCIENT PEDLER. 157 

Then over the hilles and farre awaye, 

I made noe stinte of stalking. — 
Then shaking his heade did the Deacon saye 
" You saved your bacon by running awaye, 

The Judge and Constable balking." 
" I didde not runne," quoth the pedlar then, 
But I guesse I show'd them a specimen 

Of devilish talle walking. 

Quoth the Deacon, it was an awfuUe sighte 

Of cashe to lose, I trowe ; 
The Pedler began to laughe outrighte 
Saide hee, I guesse 't was an awfuUe bite 

They were counterfeite billes you knowe ! 
Oho ! quoth the Deacon, you served him righte, 
I'd have cheated the dogge just soe ! 



VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY THROUGH THE 
STREETS OF BOSTON. 

Captain Hezekiah Haultight, formerly mas- 
ter of the schooner Little Dick, trading be- 
tween Boston and the West Indies, was not 
long since honored with an eminent and re- 
sponsible appointment by the eminent and 
honorable City Council of Boston, being 
nominated by that august body to the office 
of Superintendent of the Snag-Marine and 
Projective Surveyor of Straits and Highways 
in the City. The Captain, on being apprized 
of his election, recollected that he was rather 
imperfectly acquainted with the topography 
of the city, and not being furnished with 
charts that appeared sufficiently exact, he 
determined to undertake a voyage of dis- 
covery. He communicated his design to Mr 
Figg, a respectable grocer in Hanover Street, 
newly chosen to the Common Council, and, 
like the Captain, deficient in information as 
to matters beyond the limits of his own ward. 
Figg was once Skipper of a chebacco boat, 
and hastily approved Haultight' s plan for a 



VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY, (fec. 159 



cruise. They agreed to sail in company, and 
for further safely and the promotion of sci- 
ence, took into their company Mr Benjamin 
Blowze, ex-captain of a wood-thumper, and 
at present Deputy Dog-driver for Ward No. 
2. They chartered a Roxbury omnibus, and 
enlisted a crew from among the city officers 
consisting of the following dignitaries: — 

Regulator of Barbers' Poles. 

Gauger of Whiskey Punch. 

Receiving Teller of Rotten Apples, Faneuil 
Hall Market. 

Clerk of the Snoring Committee of the 
Board of Aldermen. 

Overseer of Blind Puppies. 

Deputy Inspector of Dead Cats. 

Branch Pilot of Mud Puddles. 



JOURNAL. 



At 10, A. M., got under weigh and stood up 
Hanover Street with a gentle breeze. Saw 
nothing remarkable till we came to Court 
Street, most of the company being pretty well 
acquainted with the coast. At the head of 
the street found the current setting to the 
S. E. Got the starboard tack aboard, and 
hauled our wind. Stood up Howard Street : 
discovered nothing : bore away up Bulfinch 



160 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY 

Street over Pemberton's Hill into Beacon 
Street. Wind freshened, judged ourselves 
near the Common. At half past ten the State 
House appeared in sight on the weather bow. 
Passed a school of odd fishes, which we sup- 
posed to be of the sort called representatives. 
In order to ascertain this, threw out a cake of 
gingerbread, which was greedily snapped up 
by them : this settled the fact. Steered along 
Beacon Street, but seeing no land ahead, hove 
about and bore away down Park Street. A 
strong smell of brimstone came from the shore, 
probably a volcano in the interior. Tacked 
and stood down the Mall, and then ran down 
Winter Street before the wind. Took in sail 
and steered down Washington Street with the 
current, which set strongly to the N. E. Saw 
a great many birds of paradise : tried to catch 
one or two, but found them very shy. These 
birds are of very bright plumage, especially 
about the head. They are very hard to catch, 
being always fluttering about and never light- 
ing. Saw also several baboons, which are 
said to be common along this part of the 
coast. These creatures have commonly great 
tufts of hair growing to the sides of their 
faces, and are much given to chattering. It 
is said they have been taught to speak, but 
this is doubtful. 



THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. 161 

At 11, A. M., made the Old South directly- 
ahead. Came on cloudy, shortened sail. 
Saw two boobies and a noddy. Made land 
at the Post Office, tacked and stood up Court 
Street. Found the coast all along infested 
with an immense number of sharks. Stood 
off and on for a pilot to carry us clear of them, 
but they swarmed about us in such numbers 
that we bore away, after catching one of them 
on a hook baited with a five dollar bill. 
Made sail and ran down the coast by the City 
Hall; heard a great puffing: saw a shoal of 
porpoises ; — seemed to be of the sort called 
aldermen. At noon, took an observation and 
found all hands very thirsty. Bore up and 
put into Kenfield's Bay for supplies. Came 
to anchor in three fathoms of strong water. 

At 1, P. M., piped all hands, hove up anchor 
and put to sea ; current strong, rather cloudy, 
and ship very much by the head. Stood off 
and on in State Street ; — full change ; — great 
flocks of gulls, boobies, noddies and lame 
ducks hovering about us ; many sharks under 
water watching for prey. Bore away and ran 
down State Street between the banks ; — very 
shoal water; — no safe navigation in these 
parts. Hauled our wind and ran through 
Merchant's Row; — breakers all round us, 
11 



162 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY 

Kept a sharp look-out and hove the lead.. 
Passed Faneuil Hall — heard a whale spout- 
ing. Bore away down North Market Street ; 
tacked and stood through Commercial Street, 
India Street, and Broad Street. Vast num- 
bers of mud-larks singing about here : came 
on squally, — took in sail ; put the helm hard 
up and wore ship round Fort Hill down Pur- 
chase Street : felt a shock of an earthquake 
under water. Saw mountains looming up 
high in the distance, which we took at first 
sight to be Eastern lands, but it turned out to 
be Cape Flyaway. Coast all along here 
strewed with wrecks : picked up the main- 
mast of a Boston speculator that had foun- 
dered in ninety thousand fathoms of land 
in sight of the city of Bangor. 

Two, P. M. Hauled upon the lee braces 
and bore up through Federal Street, Milk 
Street, and Kilby Street ; saw a good many 
jackasses, and knocked down three auction- 
eers ; — found the wind rising. Bore away 
and stood up State Street : sharks all gone, 
and only a few lame ducks left. Made sail 
and ran up Washington Street. Birds of 
Paradise, wagtails, baboons, puppies and all 
such animals in abundance. Passing the Old 
South, saw a black crow and several owls. 



THROUGH THE STREETS OF BOSTON. 163 

Off Marlborough House found the water very- 
cold, — certain sign of shallows. Kept the 
helm steady, hove the lead and looked out 
sharp : reefed the topsails, tacked and stood 
up Winter Street with a strong breeze right 
in our teeth. Filled away through Tremont 
Street: shoals of odd fish coming down from 
the State House, most of them very scaly fry. 
Took in sail; bent a cable; ran down Hano- 
ver Street and came to anchor at half past 
2, P. M. 

General Remarks. The natives of all the 
coasts we have visited, are very much given 
to trading, especially in notions. They seem 
disposed to sell every thing. Wives 'are al- 
most always bought with money. Their 
appetites are voracious, and they are extrava- 
gantly fond of a certain food called hhumm- 
biiggj which they swallow in crude lumps, 
and suffer strange fits of madness while un- 
der its effects. Voyagers who go among them 
should by all means furnish themselves with 
a large supply of this commodity, for nothing 
will gain a surer welcome. They ride a great 
deal on hobbies, and when fairly mounted, 
will cut the strangest capers imaginable. It 
is not always possible to understand their 
language, for many of the natives are addict- 



164 VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY, TEC. 

ed to a jargon called kaant, which is the hard- 
est dialect in the world to interpret. A good 
many things are manufactured by them, par- 
ticularly an article called phudge. Yarious 
attempts have been made to civilize these 
people, but as long as voyagers continue to 
supply them with hhummbugg^ there seems 
little hope of them. There is a region in this 
country called Ward No. 5, which we did not 
visit, as we were informed we should run 
great hazard of not getting away again. A 
trading vessel called the Poor Gentleman vis- 
ited that quarter last year, and cast anchor on 
a very rocky spot called the Stone Jug, which 
held so fast, she has not been able to start her 
anchor to this day. 



THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 

Titania. Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat. 

Bottom. Truly, a peck of provender. I could munch your 
good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of 
hay. 

The ancient philosopher, when he had a 
mind to eat, opened his mouth ; the moderns, 
when they have a mind either to eat or drink, 
are afraid to do any such thing as opening 
their mouths. This is a scientific age, and 
we have so wonderfully improved on the 
practice of the ancients, that we must study 
books and hear lectures, before we can be 
sure that it is safe to eat a potato. 

I, for my part, wonder how our grandfa- 
thers and great-grandfathers, those tough old 
fellows, kept soul and body together. They 
ate their victuals and went about their busi- 
ness. It is a positive fact, they had no diete- 
tics — they had no system ; — heavens and 
earth ! is it possible ? Yes, they had no such 
thing as a system, that necromantic machine 
which carries every thing onward now-a- 



166 THE SCIENCE OF STARVAVION. 

days. They ate whatever they wanted, and 
as much as they wanted, never troubled 
themselves about physiology, and did not 
know whether they had one stomach or half 
a dozen. They had no such scientific lights 
to illuminate the dark subjects of chewing 
and swallowing as their more knowing de- 
scendants possess : they never thought of 
opening their mouths by rule, or wagging 
their jaws by the pendulum of a clock, or 
weighing their bread by half ounces, or phi- 
losophizing upon fried pancakes and roasted 
pigs' tails, or smelling alcohol in cider, or 
snufiing poison in a cup of coifee, or cogita- 
ting upon the gastric juice, digestion, chylifi- 
cation, and doctoring and cosseting and 
coddling their stomachs in the ten thousand 
delightful scientific ways that modern sys- 
tem-mongers have invented. 

Our ancestors were certainly unfortunate^ 
and it is impossible not to pity their ignorance. 
They lived to ninety, and never suspected 
they were poisoning themselves all their life- 
time. Never shall I forget the nervous hor- 
ror of my old grandmother when she came 
home from one of the lectures of Dr Sawdust, 
who had been proving that coffee was poison. 
The old lady had drank four cups a day ever 



THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 167 

since she was ten years old. She immedi- 
ately clapped on her spectacles, sat down with 
a piece of chalk and made a calculation of the 
quantity. She conld hardly believe her eyes 
when she discovered that she had swallowed 
seven thousand three hundred and eighty- 
eight gallons of poison ! — " Better late than 
never," she exclaimed, — "I won't be poi- 
soned any longer, not 1 !" And so, at the age 
of ninety, she reformed her diet, fully per- 
suaded that to go on drinking coffee would 
kill her sooner or later. Another old lady, on 
hearing that tea was intoxicating, had nearly 
gone into fits, and is in great affliction at the 
thought that she has been fuddled every day 
for sixty years without knowing any thing 
about it. 

With the great abundance of wisdom upon 
these matters that we are now blessed with, 
prospects are surely very encouraging. If 
we believe the vegetable diet wiseacres, who, 
of course, know all about it, human life is to 
be wonderfully increased in duration : they 
talk of Methusaleh and his great uncles as 
familiarly as maidens of fifteen do of puppy- 
dogs. The danger seems to be that peo- 
ple will live too long. True it is that none 
of this cabbage-fed tribe have yet given any 



168 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 

Strong signs of longevity ; they all die off most 
unaccountably just as they are on the point 
of beginning to live a thousand years. How- 
ever, this must be a mere freak of nature, 
who often takes a malicious pleasure in con- 
founding the wisest of our calculations. 

The Sawdust Journal, a newspaper which 
has been for some time established in this 
city, must, we think, convince any man who 
will take the trouble to read it, that eating is 
a very dangerous business. It is astounding 
to perceive what multitudes have died of roast 
beef, mutton broth, and such like slow poi- 
sons. A considerate man wonders to find 
himself alive, and is fully convinced that he 
ought to have been dead long ago. But to 
show that people are at last fairly awake on 
this subject, and are determined not to sit still 
and be poisoned any longer, we make the 
following extract from the editor's correspon- 
dence. 



TO THE EDITOR OF THE SAWDUST JOURNAL. 

GOOSEBOROUGH, DECEMBER 25, 1837. 

Friend Withershins : — I wrote to you 
some time since, for the Library of Star- 
vation, and the Sawdust Journal ; I hope 



THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 169 

yon will send those excellent publications 
as soon as possible, with any other works 
yon may have on the subject of short com- 
mons. Public attention is now strongly turn- 
ed toward these subjects, and we really hun- 
ger and thirst after every thing in the shape 
of bare bones. Doctor Sawdust has been lec- 
turing in this place, and produced quite an 
excitement : his proofs of the pernicious con- 
sequences of eating food were in the highest 
degree convincing; people discovered them- 
selves to be sick who never dreamt of the 
thing before : indeed, it is very clear that but 
for Dr Sawdust, we should never know half 
our misfortunes. Flesh meat is now held in 
utter abomination among us. People are 
turning their pigs out of doors at a great rate ; 
all the cows are cashiered, and the poultry 
have been obliged to cut and run. As for a 
beef steak, I need not say, such a thing is not 
to be had for love or money : sausages are 
entirely out of demand, except such as are 
stuffed with red baize and turnips; and I 
verily believe the ghost of a sheep's head 
would frighten the whole community. Flesh, 
in fact, is quite out of the question, and no- 
thing is fish that comes to net here; a man 
could not get even a salt eel for his supper. 



170 THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 

All the dogs have run mad, and every cat in 
the town has departed this hfe. 

I hope, friend Withershins, we shall have 
the pleasure of beholding your hatchet face 
among us before long. You would be de- 
lighted to see the sharpness of our noses, the 
prominence of our cheek-bones, and the beau- 
tiful lantern-like transparency of our jaws. 
The good work is going on, although a great 
many among us are going off; this, however, 
cannot be owing to their change of diet, but 
to the roast turkeys they ate last winter. 
There is a class of young ladies at Mrs Nip- 
po's boarding-house, who are living (those, I 
mean, who still survive) in exact adherence 
to the principles of Dr Sawdust, and find their 
complexions highly improved by it. They 
have excellent soup, made of pebble-stones 
boiled in clear spring water : sometimes they 
strain it through a colander of turnip-tops; 
but this the Doctor calls high living. The 
sawdust dough-nuts never give them the 
heart-burn; and if you shake a bunchof rad- 
ishes at them once a week, it is all they want. 
You never saw a more beautiful and interest- 
ing sight than these young ladies; they re- 
semble fair and delicate cabbage-plants grow- 
ing under the shady side of a barn. Their 



THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 171 

Strength is so much improved by their diet, 
that they have no occasion for exercise, and 
never feel the least desire to walk about. In- 
deed, this would be somewhat hazardous, for 
one of them, being abroad on a windy day 
last week, was accidentally blown against the 
side of a newly painted house, where she 
stuck till somebody came to her relief Since 
this catastrophe, they have all kept within 
doors, which, in fact, is much the best way 
for true Sawdustarians. 

Since writing the above, I have received 
accounts from the neighboring town of Noo- 
dleton, where Dr Sawdust has also been 
lecturing. The good work is going on there. 
The people have given up eating entirely. 
Most of them do nothing but gape, though 
even this is censured as a superfluous luxury, 
as well as the practice of sucking fog through 
rye straws. Tee-total Fast Day Forever As- 
sociations are rapidly forming. Several peo- 
ple have sewed up their mouths, and assure 
me the sensation is delightful; others hold 
back, and think that knocking their teeth out 
is going far enough. However, the general 
cry is '' go ahead," and I think these last 
must knock under, in spite of their teeth. 

Brother Sappy lectured on water-porridge 



172 ^ THE SCIENCE OF STARVATION. 

last evening, and delighted a most enthusias- 
tic audience. He gave a flaming description 
of carrots, and the mention of onions brought 
tears into every eye. He means next week 
to take up the question on the moral qualities 
of baked beans. We are all as thriving as 
corn-stalks ; there is not a face in the town 
that is not pea-green. 

Yours most emaciatingly, 

Simon Scarecrow. 



DECLINE AND FALL OF THE CITY OF 
DOGTOWN. 

DoGTOWN is a beautiful place in the interior 
of this State. There is plenty of land around 
it, so that nothing can hinder it from growing 
in every direction, and thus becoming a great 
city. In fact, Dogtown has already a one- 
story church, part of a schoolhouse, and an 
elegant pound. Nobody can see Dogtown 
without being reminded of that celebrated 
town in France, named Grandville, of which 
we have the following description : 

Grandville, grand vilain, 
Une eglise et un moulin 
Voila Grandville tout a plein. 

Which we may translate thus : 

Grandville, great Grandville 
Has a meetinghouse and mill, 
Nothing else in all Grandville. 

Dogtown is finely and advantageously situ- 
ated. It stands on Eel River, a stream of 
water which runs into another stream, and 
that into a third, which runs into Connecticut 
River, which running into Long Island Sound, 



174 DECLINE AND FALL OF 

finally reaches the Atlantic : who does not 
see, therefore, that Dogtown may become a 
great seaport 7 The territory in the neigh- 
borhood of Dogtown is remarkable for its fer- 
tility, bating that part of it which is covered 
with rocks, the salt meadow, the pine woods, 
the clay-ponds and the swamps. It is past a 
doubt, therefore, that the territory, if well 
cleared, drained, peopled and cultivated, 
would become a perfect garden, abounding 
with the richest productions of nature, and 
affording a mine of wealth to the country. 
As to the facilities of communication with the 
great Atlantic cities and commercial marts, 
they are admirable. Dogtown has Boston on 
one side and New York on the other. Mont- 
real and Quebec are in the north, while in the 
east is the rich and thriving State of Maine, 
with Bangor and Owl's Head to boot. Rail 
roads can be made to connect Dogtown with 
all these places, and they will certainly form 
such a connection, wheji they are built. That 
the place will be a great focus of trade when 
this is done, nobody I think will deny. The 
neighborhood of Dogtown has all the advan- 
tages that can be desired in a young country. 
There will be as many large towns within 
thirty miles of the place, as people choose to 



THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 175 

build. The population cannot fail to increase 
rapidly, for a man can get married for seven- 
ty-five cents, town clerk's fees included. The 
attraction for settlers must therefore be con- 
sidered very great. The Dogtowners are re- 
markably industrious, for they get a living, ' 
although constantly grumbling of hard times. 
They are moreover ingenious, for they manu- 
facture axe handles, wooden bowls, birch 
brooms, and white oak cheese, and invent 
mouse traps and washing machines. Last of 
all. the inhabitants of Dogtown are literary 
and intellectual, for they talk a great deal of 
the march of improvement, and the minister 
and the lawyer take the Penny Magazine be- 
tween them. 

All these attractions together form a combi- 
nation truly wonderful. But the reader will 
be astonished when I inform him that the in- 
habitants of this favored spot lived a great 
many years without the smallest suspicion of 
what I have been describing. They thought 
very little of themselves or of the town they 
lived in, and continued to vegetate from year 
to year without imagining they were better 
off than other folks. In fact, the world might 
have continued to this day in utter ignorance 
that Dogtown was such a wonderful place. 



176 DECLINE AND FALL OF 

but for an accident ; — an accident 1 call it, for 
theDogtowners having lived for so many years 
without opening their eyes, the fact that they 
did open them of a sudden, on a certain day 
in the year of grace 1834, must be considered 
purely accidental. Some people are inclined 
to ascribe it to the approach of the comet, 
which had a powerful influence in opening 
people's eyes, — to say nothing of its efl!ect in 
driving them stark mad. But that is neither 
here nor there. The people of Dogtown open- 
ed their eyes and saw: that was enough, they 
saw in an instant their immense advantages, 
and were astonished that they never had seen 
them before. They saw their advantages, T 
say, and were determined to turn them to 
account. 

Straightway Dogtown was all alive ; every 
body was confident that Dogtown must be- 
some a great place ; and as every body told 
every body else so, there was no doubt about 
the matter. Every man went to buying land 
who could pay for it ; and those who could 
iiot pay, bought upon credit, sure of selling it 
at ten times the cost within a year. Nothing 
vas talked of but the immense advantages of 
,he place. The riches of Dogtown were in- 
ieed immense, and how they could have been 



THE CITY OF POGTOWN. 177 

overlooked so long, was a mystery that no one 
could understand. The land within the lim- 
its of the town was computed at 720,000,000 
square feet, which at only one cent per 
square foot, which is cheap enough in all 
conscience, would amount to 7,200,000 dol- 
lars. What a sum ! But this was not all. 
Half of this land was covered with trees at 
the rate of one tree to every five feet square, 
or quadrangle of twenty-five feet : this gave 
a computation of 10,400,000 trees; and as 
each tree on an average contained seventy- 
five cubic feet of timber, it followed that there 
was actually within the town 780,000,000 feet 
of timber, worth on the lowest calculation 
five cents per foot, which would amount to 
39,000,000 dollars. This, added to the value 
of the land as above, made a grand total of 

FORTY-SIX MILLIONS TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND DOL- 
LARS ! 

The mention of these sums almost drove 
the good people of Dogtown distracted with 
joy ; they could hardly believe their eyes or 
ears, but there it was in black and white ; 
figures could not lie. They were amazed to 
think of their own stupidity and that of their 
ancestors in letting forty-six millions two 
hundred thousand dollars lie totally idle and 
12 



178 DECLINE AND FALL OF 

unproductive ; but they were determined not 
to allow their wealth to be neglected any- 
longer. A grand scheme of speculation and 
improvement was started, and all rushed 
headlong into it. Every man in Dogtown 
was now rich, or, what was the same thing, 
was sure of being so before long. Immense 
tracts were laid out in building lots, and 
speculators flocked in from all quarters ; from 
Catsville and Weazletown and Buzzardsbo- 
rough, and Ganderfield and Crow Corner and 
Upper Bugbury and East Punkinton, and 
Black Swamp and the Bottomless Bogs. 
Such a busy time as the Dogtowners had of 
it ! Nothing was talked of but buying land, 
building houses, laying out roads, streets, 
squares, avenues, rail roads, canals, &c. &c. 
&c. People left off ploughing and hoeing, 
because agriculture was too slow a method of 
making money ; for who would think of rais- 
ing turnips to sell, at twenty cents a bushel, 
when he could make a hundred times the 
profit by speculating in land? 

First of all, it was determined that Dogtown 
should be a city. The want of population 
was found to be a serious obstacle here ; the 
constitution of the state requires ten or twelve 
thousand inhabitants for a city ; and as Dog- 



THE CITY OF DOGTOWN. 179 

town, including the suburbs of Puppy ville and 
Skunk's Misery, contained a population of 
only six hundred and thirtyone, it was thought 
there might be some difficulty in getting a 
charter without anticipating the returns of the 
next census. However a city it must be, 
some time or other, in this all were agreed, 
and it might as well have the name first as 
last ; so they concluded to call it a city. It is 
astonishing what a spirit of enterprise these 
prospects infused into the people of Dogtown. 
The school house door was painted green, un- 
cle Joe Stubbins mended the top of his chim- 
ney, and it was voted in town-meeting to 
purchase three wheelbarrows for the public 
use; — and all in consequence of these pro- 
jected improvem.ents. Nay, so widely did 
their views of business expand, that Amina- 
dab Figgins, the grocer, determined to give 
up retailing, and declared he would n't split 
crackers nor cut candles any longer. 

Such was the thriving condition of the City 
of Dogtown when I left the place in the au- 
tumn of that year. I continued to hear of it 
through the medium of the Dogtown Daily 
Advertiser, a newspaper established there by 
an enterprising printer from Connecticut at 
the first dawning of the commercial prosperi- 



180 DECLINE AND FALL OF 

ty of the city. It appeared to go ahead rap- 
idly. The newspaper spoke of the Exchangey 
the Town Hall, the Bank, the New Post Of- 
fice, the Rail Road, Canal, &e. House lots 
were advertised in Washington Square, Mer- 
chant's Row, State Street, Market Street, 6lc, 
Contracts were proposed for building church- 
es, manufactories, &c. — This was Dogtown 
in all its glory. 

Last August 1 determined to make a visit 
to this celebrated place in order to feast my 
eyes with the splendor of a city that had 
sprung up as it were by enchantment. When 
I reached the foot of Blueberry Hill, which 
overlooks the whole place, I walked eagerly 
to the top, in order to catch a view at a single 
glance, of the city in all its magnificence. 
To my utter astonishment, instead of spires 
and domes, I saw nothing but Deacon Stum- 
py' s old mansion, with five other ragged and 
dingy looking edifices, which stood exactly 
where 1 had always known them. I entered 
the city through State Street, but discovered 
nothing new except a small house without a 
chimney. Not a living thing was to be seen 
in Washington Square but three geese who 
were lazily picking a mouthful of grass among 
the mud-puddles. I inquired .for the Ex- 

/ 



THE CITY OF DOGTOWN, 181 

change, and found it in use by the Deacon as 
a cow-pen. The new church, however, I 
"was told had actually proceeded as far as the 
raising of the timbers ; but it was subsequent- 
ly sold by auction to pay for digging the 
cellar. 

I had a check upon the Dogtown Bank for 
three dollars, and wishing to draw the money, 
I was directed to No. 19 Tremont Street. 
This turned out to be the identical building 
formerly occupied by old Kit Cobble, the 
shoemaker. It was bank hours, but the bank 
was shut, and there was not a soul to be 
seen. Just as I was going away, I spied a 
tin horn hanging by the door with a paper 
over it, on which was written, "Persons 
having business at the bank, are requested to 
blow the horn." I put the horn to my lips 
and blew a blast both long and loud. After 
waiting about ten minutes, I spied Isaac 
Thumper coming slowly down the road : he 
proved to be the cashier of the Dogtown Bank, 
and after some difficulty I convinced him of 
the safety of cashing the check. 

Upon inquiring of Isaac what use had been 
made of the forty-six millions two hundred 
thousand dollars, he informed me that most 
of it remained invested in notes of hand. 



182 DECLINE AND FALL, ETC. 

Money was scarce, and was expected to con- 
tinue so until the onion crop had been got in. 
It was easy to see that the city had sadly de- 
clined from its meridian splendor. In fact, 
Dogtown has suffered a complete downfall, 
for hardly any body now speaks of it as a 
city. They have as much land as ever, and 
so long as it continued to be valued at their 
own price, they were as rich as Jews ; but, 
unfortunately, it fell in value, the moment 
they expected the purchasers to pay for it. 
The Dogtowners are poor enough at present^ 
but they are not the first, and probably will 
not be the last people who have ruined them- 
selves by building a city on speculation. 



PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE 
DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 

AT THE ASINEUM. 

The Annual Meeting of the Society for the 
Diffusion of Useless Knowledge and the Gen- 
eral Confusion of the Human Understanding, 
was held at the Asineum on Monday last; 
the President, the Rev. Dr Bubble, took the 
chair, precisely at seven o'clock, assisted by 
the Hon. Mr Fudgefield, and Timothy Tin- 
shins, Esq., Vice Presidents. The President 
delivered an introductory discourse on the 
usefulness of useless knowledge and the ad- 
vantages of confusion in the understanding, 
which elicited the greatest applause from a 
thronged and delighted audience. The fol- 
lowing is an abridged copy. 

Gentlemen of the Useless Knowledge Association : 

I have the honor of congratulating you on 
this anniversary meeting. We are engaged, 
gentlemen, in a stupendous effort. The ob- 
ject of our endeavors is to place the founda- 



184 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR 

tions of the intellectual universe on the high- 
est state of moral elevation. There is great 
truth, gentlemen, in the exaggeration, that the 
intense application of human intellect in infi- 
nitesimal quantities to the analytical pursuit 
of psychological investigation, leads to the 
surest mathematical discrimination of moral 
idiosyncrasies. The human mind, gentlemen, 
I consider as composed of two qualities, — 
rationation and immaterial recipiency. Facts 
are imbibed by the inductive process of men- 
tal recipiency, and, being rationally rationa- 
ted, lead to reason. This we denominate the 
March of Intellect : and intellect hath three 
branches, namely, logic, metaphysics, and 
dogmatics, which, being synthetically com- 
bined, constitute man a reasoning animal. 
As the Stagyrite remarks concerning the 
method of philosophical induction, '' Omnis 
ratio de ratione rationans^ rationare facit ra- 
tionaliter rationando omnes homines rationan- 
tes,^^ an axiom which, I apprehend, no one 
will deny. In the unenlightened mind, all 
attempts at reasoning are in the highest de- 
gree unreasonable, just as in the dark all cats 
are gray. Gentlemen, we live in an enlight- 
ened age ; Peter Parley and the printing press 
have effected a moral and hypercritical revo- 



THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 185 

lution ; all men can read the Pandects, the 
Novum Organum, and Poor Polly Jenkms. 
Instead of the spelling-book and the primer, 
our children have Cudworth's Intellectual 
System and Adelung's Mithridates. Modern 
intellect may be compared to a magnificent 
toadstool, which shoots out its head on all 
sides, the moment it gets an inch above 
ground. Sometimes it has been compared to 
an overgrown pumpkin-vine, sprouting right 
and left, and grasping at more than it can 
hold ; but this is a misrepresentation : the 
mind will hold any quantity of knowledge 
since the invention of lyceums and encyclo- 
pedias ; and there is no difficulty at the pres- 
ent day, in getting a quart into a pint pot. 
Gentlemen, I say to you, go on. Let useless 
knowledge flourish. The world is growing 
wise. Man is tall in intellectual stature ; his 
heels are on the earth, but his head is in the 
clouds. 

The following report of the standing com- 
mittee was then read. 

REPORT. 

The Standing Committee of the Society for 
the Diff'usion of Useless Knowledge and the 



186 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR 

General Confusion of the Human Understand- 
ing, beg leave to report, that the affairs of the 
Society were never in a most prosperous and 
desirable condition. They have great plea^ 
sure in congratulating the Society upon the 
encouraging prospects which the present state 
of the country holds out to them. Useless 
knowledge was never more highly prized or 
more eagerly sought after ; and mortal under- 
standings were never in a more admirable 
confusion than at present. Your Committee 
beg leave to call the attention of the Society 
to sundry circumstances which, in their 
opinion, have had the most powerful effect in 
bringing about these desirable results. 

Your Committee feel bound to distinguish 
with the most pointed and laudatory regard, 
the efforts of the newspaper editors of this 
country, who, in the course of the past year, 
have labored with the most disinterested zeal 
in forwarding the objects of the Society : they 
have constantly shown themselves friends of 
useless knowledge and confounders of the 
brains and understanding of mankind. Your 
Committee would particularly call to your 
approving notice, the unwearied industry of 
these gentlemen in discovering mares' nests, 
fighting windmills, basting dead cats, bottling 



THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 187 

moonshine, catching Tartars, peeping through 
millstones, swallowing earthqnakes, gobbling 
down piracies, and bridling their asses at the 
tail. Your Committee recommend that each 
newspaper editor be presented with an ele- 
gant leather medal bearing the inscription 
" Ex famo dare lucem^^ in allusion to their 
wonderful sagacity in sometimes distinguish- 
ing smoke from fire. 

Your Committee would further point out 
to the notice of the Society the various quack 
doctors of this country, and in particular the 
Yegetable Diet Sawdust Live-forever Starva- 
tion tribe; — useless knowledge is under infi- 
nite obligations to these individuals, though 
their reward and encouragement would seem 
rather to belong to that enlightened associa- 
tion, the Society for the Extinction of the 
Human Species. Nevertheless, considering 
the immense amount of useless knowledge 
they have propagated, and its effects in pro- 
ducing confusion not only in the understand- 
ings, but in the bodies of men, your Com- 
mittee do not feel at liberty to pass them by 
without some adequate notice. They there- \ 
fore recommend that each of these persons be 
presented with a medal of the purest and 
hardest bronze, bearing the inscription '• ^tuU 



188 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR 

torum injiiiitus est numerus^^'' in allusion to the 
very wide field which exists for their praise- 
worthy and philanthropic labors. 

Your Committee would further recommend 
to your favorable notice, those worthy and 
enlightened individuals the March of Intellect 
Cold Water Tee-totallers, who have manfully 
lent their strong assistance towards promoting 
the objects of this Society. Your Committee 
cannot praise too highly the labors of these 
gentlemen in propagating useless knowledge. 
The world is indebted to them for the discov- 
ery of the method of drinking out of empty 
glasses, getting high on cold water, decanting 
a bottle of hay, sucking April fog through 
goose-quills, and the demonstration by chemi- 
cal analysis, that sixteen thousand cubic miles 
of moonshine contain alcohol enough to fud- 
dle three moschetoes. But the most amazing 
discovery due to the ingenuity of these gen- 
tlemen, relates to whiskey punch, which they 
have ascertained to be not whiskey punch, 
but a compound of prussic acid, opodeldoc, 
nux vomica, prelinpinpin, coloquintida, peppe- 
raria, suderumhatcheta and a conglomeration 
of heterogeneous concoctions too numerous to 
mention. The most brilliant discoveries may 
still be expected of the Tee-totallers, as they 



THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 189 

are now engaged in an inquiry into the meta- 
physical character of pint pots. Your Com- 
mittee recommend that each individual of the 
March of Intellect Tee-total Association be 
presented with a tin dipper of the shallowest 
possible form, with the strictest injunctions 
never to put his nose into it; the said tin dip- 
per to bear the Spartan inscription *'H ray "jy 
£Wfc T«f : alluding to the fact, that if they cannot 
drink out of it, they can suck round the 
edges. 

Your Committee further recommend to the 
favorable regard of the Society that distin- 
guished individual, Dr Humm, the ingenious 
reviver of animal magnetism, whose labors in 
the cause of the Society deserve the highest 
commendation. Dr Humm has not only been 
instrumental in extending knowledge useless, 
and more than useless, but he has also thrown 
the understandings of many human beings 
into confusion worse confounded. His suc- 
cess in this particular has been most brilliant, 
and many individuals under his influence are 
so far gone in their intellectuals, that they do 
not show the least glimmer of common sense. 
Your Committee beg leave to lay before the 
Society a brief relation of the brilliant and 
astonishing experiment in animal magnetism 



190 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR 

performed by Dr Humm upon the person of 
a full grown, intelligent and respectable cat 
of this city, in the presence of a large number 
of citizens of the first talent and respecta- 
bility. 

•'AH things being prepared, the cat was 
brought into the room and placed in an arm- 
chair. The cat was a gray tabby with a 
black and yellow tail, and sea-green eyes, 
and a mild and ingenuous expression of coun- 
tenance, and appeared to be about four years 
old. Doctor Humm assured us there was no 
sort of private understanding between him 
and the cat, as had been suspected by some 
sceptical persons. Indeed, the cat appeared 
perfectly innocent, and every body was quite 
convinced of her honesty. She stared round 
at the company with wondering eyes, as if 
not comprehending the cause of the assem- 
blage, but could not escape from the chair, 
because she was held down by her paws and 
tail by five of the gentlemen present. Dr 
Humm then began the magnetic operation by 
placing the fore and middle fingers of his left 
hand over her eyes so as to keep them shut 
close, and drawing the forefinger of his right 
hand in a direct line from the cat's nose across 
her bosom down to the extremity of her left 



THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 191 

paw. The magnetic effect was immediately 
apparent. Her tail began to wag, so much 
so that the Rev. Mr Fogbrain, who was hold- 
ing on by that limb, immediately let it go in 
order to witness the result of this strange phe- 
nomenon. In thirteen seconds there was a 
sensible vibration of the cat's tail, which 
waved from side to side, describing twenty- 
seven degrees of the segment of a circle. A 
general murmur ran throughout the assembly, 
' It wags ! it wags ! ' exclaimed every one — 
there was no longer any room for doubt; the 
most sceptical among the spectators was 
thoroughly convinced that the tail was wag- 
ging, and even that arch unbeliever Simon 
Sly was heard to declare he did not doubt of 
the waggery. 

" Dr Humm now changed his operation, 
and commencing as before at the cat's nose, 
he passed his two fingers up the skull-bone 
between the ears, down the occiput, round 
under the neck to the tip of the shoulder- 
blade, and thence in a straight line down to 
the left paw. After thirtyone magnetical 
touches in this manner, the wagging of the 
tail increased to such a degree as to describe 
almost a semicircle, andDr Humm declared 
the animal was sound asleep. As the cat 



192 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR 

gave no evidence to the contrary except by 
the waggmg, there was no doubt of the fact, 
for the Doctor assured us that magnetized 
cats always wagged their tails when sleeping. 
The cat was therefore declared to be in a fit 
state for experiments, and Doctor Humm be- 
gan by willing the cat's tail to tie itself up in 
a bow-knot : the tail immediately twisted 
itself round and described the figure of a 
bow-knot in the air. This was witnessed 
with astonishment by every one in the room. 
Mr Noddy seeing the wonderful efiect of the 
experiment, signified a wish to bear a part in 
the operation, to which Dr Humm very po- 
litely consented. Mr Noddy therefore pro- 
ceeded to magnetize the cat from the tip of 
the lower jaw under the chin across the tra- 
chea and thorax, down to the heel of the right 
paw : the cat immediately gave a loud mew I 
which in a sleeping cat must have been a 
sure sign that something ailed her. Mr Nod- 
dy then willed her nose to be in a rat-hole, 
which took immediate effect by the cat's 
snapping sharply at his forefinger. This as- 
tonished the company a second time, and Dr 
Humm made a third experiment by willing 
the cat to be thrown souse into Frog Pond. 
The Rev. Mr Fogbrain immediately let go 



THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 193 

her fore paws, and strange to say, they began 
pad, padding, as if attempting to swim. The 
murmurs of admiration that ran round the 
company at this wonderful sight are not to be 
described. ' She swims ! she swims ! ' ex- 
claimed every one; the proof was complete; 
most of the spectators could hear the splash- 
ing of the water in the pond, and some even 
imagined they could see the boys chucking 
stones at her. After this had been displayed 
to the full satisfaction of the company. Dr 
Humm willed her to come safe ashore ; not- 
withstanding, her paws continued to paddle, 
but this was easily accounted for, as the Doctor 
assured us she would stand perfectly still as 
soon as she got her land legs on. 

'' Various other experiments followed, which 
we have not space to describe in detail. Dr 
Scantiwit willed the cat to be in a mustard 
pot, whereupon she immediately gave a loud 
sneeze, and made an immensely wry face. 
Mr Milksop willed her to be lapping cream, 
on which she gave a hearty purr and licked 
her chops three times. Mr Dryasdust willed 
her to scratch his wig, and at the same mo- 
ment felt a sharp tingling under his skull 
bone, by which he was convinced he had 
something there, &c. &c." 
13 



194 PROCEEDINGS OF THE SOCIETY FOR 

Your Committee having laid before the 
Society these wonderful experiments, recom- 
mend that Dr Humm, and each of the indivi- 
duals who assisted as above, be presented 
with the Freedom of the Corporation of Fool's 
Paradise. 

Your Committee would recommend to the 
respectful notice of the Society the various 
public lecturers of this portion of the country, 
and in particular, those who treat of German 
metaphysics, Coleridgism, optimism and sim- 
ilar ultra-mundane exaltations of the human 
intellect. Your Committee suggest that a 
prize be ? proposed the ensuing year for the 
best dissertation on the following subject, — 
" The Influence of Transcendental Metaphy- 
sics on the Growth of Cabbages." They re- 
commend that each transcendentalist be pre- 
sented with a broomstick of not- walnut for 
the purpose of flying through the air. 

Your Committee would trespass too far 
upon the time of the Society were they to 
enumerate at length all the matters which 
deserve their attention. They are obliged 
reluctantly therefore, to pass with a bare men- 
tion, the great number of old women, quid- 
nuncs, schemers, dreamers, steamers, system- 
mongers, method-mongers, improvers-of-soci- 



THE DIFFUSION OF USELESS KNOWLEDGE. 195 

ety, (fee, who are now exercising so vast an 
influence in tliis country. They recommend 
that a medal be struck, emblematical of the 
whole of this enlightened community; the 
said medal to bear on one side the figure of a 
toad just ready to jump, with the legend, 
^'Sedet, etermimque sedebit^^'* in allusion to the 
march of intellect; and on the reverse the 
figure of a corn-stalk monument, with the 
words, " M,re 'perennms^^ in allusion to the 
Lasting fame of all march-of-intellect people. 



FOSTON LYRICS'. 

Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel t 

Oh ! what a dismal doom is mine ! 
To hear each mam that horrid yell 

Bellow'd from four o'clock till nine; 
When up the eastern arch of blue, 

Dan Phoebus drives his fiery wain, 
Slumber and dreams and rest, adieu !' 

I court the drowsy god in vain>; 
For hark ! the cry, — I know it well, 
Fresh mackerel I Fresh mackerel ! 

I'm vexed to wrath :— I 've got the blues^< 

It really is too much to bear. 
Will ne'er one matutinal snooze 

Knit up my " ravelled sleeve of care ?'• 
Presumptuous wish ! — relentless spite I 

Just as I drop inta a swound, 
When morning hours to sleep invite, 

A caitiff, whom the plagues confound^ 
Roars loud as any 'larum bell, 
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel ! 

Obstreperous cur ! — He '11 be my death,, 

I wish he 'd other fish to fry, 
May throttling hiccui>s catch his breath, 

And yawnings twist his jaws a-wry. 
Hear it again ! that stentor note ! 

That loudest of ten thousand tongues ! 
The wrathful gods have steeled his throatj, 

And gifted him with brazen lungs ! 
'T will surely be my funeral knell, 
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel I 



BOSTON LYRICS. 197 

«h powers of sleep ! what would I give 

That I could go to bed betimes ! 
But 't is my luckless lot to live 

Scribbling vile prose and viler rhjmies. 
Perforce I trim the midnight flame, 

And when to late repose I lay 
JVid-nodding down, my weary frame, 

I hear him just at break of day 
<I3ome bellowing like a demon fell, 
Fresh mackerel 1 Fresh Mackerel ! 

Time was, in peace I closed my eye ; 

Knew many a slumber, long and deep. 
But now this vender of vile fry, 

Like old Macbeth, " hath murdered sleep." 
How startling on my ear it falls, 

When visions crown the blissful hours, 
Of orient domes and golden halls. 

And fairy isles and Paphian bowers, 
The bursting of that magic spell. 
Fresh mackerel ! Fresh mackerel! 

Oh, City Marshal ! must I sup 

More full of horrors ? Sir, 1 wish 
You 'd stir your stumps and hunt me up 

The ordinance on crying fish. 
'T is your high function to look out 

That Boston folks receive no harm. 
Then cast those Argus eyes about, 

Lift up at once that potent arm 
And silence that confounded yell, 
Fresh mackerel I Fresh mackerel I 



BOB LEE. 



A TALEo 



In a remote region of the Hoosac Moun- 
tains is a little place called Turkeytown. It 
is a straggling assemblage of clingy, old- 
fashioned houses surrounded by the woods, 
and the inhabitants are as old-fashioned as 
their dwellings. They raise corn and pump- 
kins, believe in witches, and know nothing of 
rail roads or the march of intellect. There 
has never been more than one pair of boots in 
the town : these are called " the town boots,'^ 
and are provided at the public expense, to be 
worn to Boston every winter by the represen- 
tative. I had the satisfaction last week of 
actually seeing these venerable coriaceous 
integuments in official duty upon the long 
shanks of Colonel Crabapple of the General 
Court, and was struck with becoming awe at 
their veteran looks. They seemed to be 
somewhat the worse for wear, but the Colonel 
informed me the town had lately voted to 



BOB LEE. 199 

have them heel-tapped, and the vote would 
probably be carried into effect before the next 
session. 

The present story, however, is not about 
boots, but about Bob Lee, who was an odd 
sort of a fellow that lived upon the skirts of 
Turkeytown, and got his living by hook and 
by crook. He had neither chick nor child, 
but kept bachelor's hall in a rickety old house 
Avithout any companion except an old black 
hen, whom he kept to amuse him because she 
had a most unearthly mode of cackling that 
nobody could understand. Bob used to spend 
his time in shooting wild ducks, trapping fox- 
es and musquashes, catching pigeons, and 
other vagabond and aboriginal occupations, 
by means of which he contrived to keep his 
pot boiling, and a ragged jacket upon his 
back. Nothing could induce him to work 
hard and lay up something for a rainy day. 
Bob left the rainy days to take care of them- 
themselves and thought of nothing but sun- 
shine. In short, the incorrigible vagabond 
was as lazy, careless, ragged and happy, as 
any man you ever saw of a summer's day. 

And it fell out upon a summer's day, that 
Bob found himself without a cent in his pock- 
et or a morsel of victuals in the house. His 



200 - BOB LEE. 

whole disposable wealth consisted of a single 
fox-skin nailed against his back door drying 
in the sun. Something must be had for din- 
ner, and Bob took down the fox-skin and set 
off for Deacon Grabbit's store to sell it. As 
luck would have it, before he had gone a 
quarter of a mile, he met old Tim Twist, the 
Connecticut pedler, a crony and boon compa- 
nion of many years' standing. Tim, who 
was glad to see his old gossip, invited him 
into Major Shute's tavern to take a glass of 
New-England. Bob, who had never signed 
the temperance pledge, accepted the invita- 
tion nothing loth. They sat down over half 
a pint and discussed the news. No drink 
tastes better than that which a man gets for 
nothing. It was a hot day, and both were 
very thirsty. Tim was very liberal for a 
Connecticut man — what will you have ? In 
the upshot they found they had made an 
immense potation of it : and Bob took leave 
of his old friend, clearly satisfied that he had 
not taken so heavy a pull for many a day. 

He had hardly got out of sight of the 
tavern before he found the road too crooked 
to travel : he sat down under an apple-tree to 
take a little cool reflection, but the more he 
reflected, the more he could not understand 



BOB LEE. 201 

it: his eyes began to wag in his head, and he 
was just on the point of faUing asleep, when a 
bob o'Unk aUghted on a branch over his head 
and began to sing " Bob o'hnk ! bob o'Unk ! 
bob o'liiik ! " Bob Lee's brains were by this 
time in such a fog, that his eyes and ears were 
all askew, and he did not doubt somebody 
was calling him. 

" Hollo, neighbor ! " says Bob Lee. 

"Bob o'Unk! bob o'Unk! what ye got? 
what ye got? what ye got?" chattered the 
bird — as Bob thought. 

"Got a fox-skin," answered he. " D' ye 
want to buy .^ " 

" Bob o'Unk ! bob o'Unk ! what 'U ye take? 
what 'U ye take? " returned the little feather- 
ed chatterer. 

" Half a dollar," replied Bob, "and it 's 
worth every cent of the money. 

" Bob o'Unk ! bob o'Unk ! bob o'Unk ! two 
and threepence! two and threepence! two 
and threepence ! " was the reply from the 
apple-tree. 

"Won't take it," said Bob; " it 's a real 
silver-gray : half a dollar is little enough for 
it. Can't sell it for two and threepence. 

" Bob o'Unk ! bob o'Unk ! you 'd better, 
you'd better, you'd better; two and three- 



202 BOB LEE. 

pence, two and threepence, two and three- 
pence ; now or never, now or never, now or 
never." 

"Can't ye say any more? Well, take it 
then. I won't stand for ninepence. Hand 
us over the money," said Bob, twisting his 
head round and round endeavoring to get a 
sight of the person with whom he v/as bar- 
gaining. 

" Bob o'link ! bobo'link ! bobo'link ! let's 
have it ! let 's have it, let 's have it ; quick 
or ye 'II lose it ! quick or ye '11 lose it ! " 

Bob turned his head toward the quarter 
from which the sound proceeded, and imagin- 
ing he saw somebody in the tree, threw up 
the fox-skin, exclaiming, " There it is, and 
cheap enough too, at two and threepence." 
Mr Bob o'link started and flew away, singing 
" Bob o'link, bob o'link ! catch a weazel, 
catch a weazel, catch a weazel ! " for Bob 
Lee made clear English of every thing the 
bird said, and never doubted all the while 
that he was driving a regular bargain with a 
country trader. At the same time, spying a 
toadstool growing at the foot of the tree, he 
imagined it to be a half dollar, and made a 
grasp at it. The toadstool was demolished 
under his hand, but Bob happening to clutch 



BOB LEE. 203 

a pebble-stone at the same moment, thrust it 
into his pocket fully persuaded he had secured 
his coin. " Can't make change, — 'remember 
it next time !" said he, and so turning about, 
he made the best of his way homewards. 

When he awoke the next morning, he felt 
in his pocket for the half dollar, but his as- 
tonishment cannot be described at finding it 
metamorphosed into a stone. He rubbed his 
eyes, but the more he rubbed them, the more 
like a stone it looked : — decidedly a stone I 
He thought of witchcraft, but presently recol- 
lecting that he had taken a drop too much, 
just before the bargain under the apple-tree, 
he became of opinion that he had been cheat- 
ed, and that the crafty rogue who bought his 
fox-skin, had taken advantage of his circum- 
stances to palm off a stone upon him for sil- 
ver. Bob started upon his legs at the very 
first flash of the thought. '' A rascal ! " he 
exclaimed, "I'll catch him though! I'll 
catch him if he 's above ground ! " No sooner 
said than done. Out he sallied in a tremen- 
dous chafe, determined to pursue the rogue to 
the further end of the state. He questioned 
every person he met, whether they had not 
seen a crafty looking caitiff sharking about 
the town and buying fox-skins, but nobody 



204 BOB LEE. 

seemed to k now any such creature. He ran 
up and down the road, called at Major Shute's 
tavern, at Deacon Grabbit's store, at Colonel 
Crabapple's grocery, at Tim Thumper's 
shoemaker's shop, at Cobb's bank and at 
Slouch's corner, but not a soul had seen the 
man with the fox-skin. Bob was half out of 
his wits at being thus baulked in his chase, 
never imagining he was all the while in pur- 
suit of an innocent little bob o'link. 

In great vexation at this disappointment he 
was slowly plodding his way homeward when 
he came in sight of the spot where he had 
made this unfortunate traffic with the roguish 
unknown. "Oh apple-tree!" he exclaimed, 
'^ if thou bee'st an honest appletree, tell me 
what has become of my fox-skin." He look- 
ed up as he uttered these words, and to his 
great astonishment, there was his fox-skin, 
dangling in the air at the end of a branch ! 
He knew not what to make of so strange an 
adventure, but he was nevertheless overjoyed 
to recover his property, and climbing the 
tree, threw it to the ground. The tree was 
old and hollow : in descending, he thrust his 
foot into an opening in the trunk some dis- 
tance above the ground, and felt something 
loose inside. He drew it out and found it was 



BOB LEE. 205 

a heavy lump, which he imagined at first to be 
a stone wrapped round with a cloth. It prov- 
ed, however, on examination, to be a bag of 
dollars ! 

He could hardly believe his eyes, but after 
turning them over and over, ringing them up- 
on a stone and cutting the edge of some of 
them with a knife, at length satisfied himself 
that they were true silver pieces. The next 
inquiry was, how they came there, and to 
whom they belonged. Here he was totally in 
the dark. The owner of the land surely could 
not be the proprietor of the money, for he had 
no need of a strong box in such a sly place. 
The money had lain in the tree some yearsy 
as was evident from the condition of the bag, 
which was nearly decayed. Was it stolen 1 
No — because nobody in these parts had lost 
such a sum. Was it the fruit of a highway 
robbery ? No robbery had been committed in 
this quarter, time out of mind. There were 
no imaginable means of accounting for the 
deposit of money in such a place. The own- 
er or depositor had never returned to claim it, 
and was now probably dead or gone away, 
never to return. 

Such were the thoughts that Bob revolved in 
his mind as he gloated over his newly gotten 



206 BOB LEE. _ 

treasure. At first he thought of making the 
discovery public, but reflecting on the many 
annoyances which this would bring upon him 
in the inquisitive curiosity of his neighbors, 
and more especially considering that the cash 
must in consequence lie a long time unless ere 
he could be legally allowed to apply it as his 
own property, he resolved to say nothing 
about it, but to consider the money his own 
immediately. It was therefore conveyed the 
same evening to his house, and snugly lodged 
in his chest. 

From that day forward it began to be re- 
marked among the neighbors that Bob Lee 
was mighty flush of money, and though he 
had no visible means of subsistence, spent a 
great deal more than he was wont. More es- 
pecially it excited their wonder that his pock- 
ets always contained hard dollars, while other 
people had little besides paper. There is noth- 
ing equal to the prying curiosity of the inhab- 
itants of a country village, and the buzzing 
and stir which an insignificant matter will 
arouse among a set of inquisitive gossips. 
Everybody began to talk about the affair, but 
nobody knew how to account for it. All sorts 
of guesses and conjectures were put upon the 
rack, but nothing was able to explain the 



BOB LEE. 207 

mystery. All sorts of hints, inquiries and en- 
treaties were put in requisition. Bob was 
proof against all their inquisitiveness and 
seemed resolved to let them die in the agonies 
of unsatisfied curiosity. 

Bob stood it out for a long while, but hu- 
man endurance has its limits, and after being 
worried with guesses and questions till he 
despaired of ever being left in quiet posses- 
sion of his own secret, he began to cast about 
for a method of allaying the public curiosity, 
in some measure, or at least of turning it aside 
from himself An old gossip named Goody 
Brown had laid seige to him about the affair 
from the first moment. One afternoon she 
dropped in as usual, and after some prelimi- 
nary tattle, recommenced the attack by in- 
quiring with a significant look and shake of 
the head, whether money was as scarce as 
ever with him. Bob had been for sometime 
thinking of a trick to play the old lady, and 
thought this a good moment to begin his mys- 
tification : so putting on a look of great seri- 
ousness, knitting his brows, and puckering 
up his mouth as if big with a mighty secret 
about to be communicated, he replied — 

"Really Mrs Brown — I have been think- 
ing, whether — now you are a prudent wo- 
man, I am certain." 



208 BOB LEE. 

"A prudent woman indeed! who ever 
thought of calUng me imprudent? Every- 
body calls me a prudent woman to be sure. 
You need not doubt it, though I say so." 

'' You are a prudent woman, no doubt, and 
I have been thinking, I say, whether I might 
trust you with a secret !" 

"A secret^! a secret! a secret! Oh Mr Bob, 
then there is a secret," said the old lady 
aroused into great animation by the prospect 
of getting at the bottom of the mystery at 
last. 

'' Yes, Mrs Brown, to confess the truth, 
there is a secret." 

" Oh ! I knew it ! I knew it ! T knew there 
was a secret. I always said there was a se- 
cret. I was always sure there was a secret. 
I told everybody I knew there must be a se- 
cret." 

" But Mrs Brown, this must be kept a 
secret; so perhaps I had better keep it to 
myself. If you cannot keep a secret — why 
then" — 

" Good lack ! Mr Lee. I am sure you are 
not afraid. Never fear me : I can keep a 
secret : Everybody knows how well I can 
keep a secret." 

" Everybody knows to be sure, how well 



BOB LEE. 209 

you can keep a secret ; that is just what I 
am thinkhig about." 

''Sure Mr Bob, you do n't mean to keep 
me out of the secret now you have begun. 
Come, come, what is it 7 You know I can 
keep a secret ; you know I can." 

" But this, recollect, Mrs Brown, is a very 
particular secret ; and if I tell it to you — hey 
Mrs Brown, it must be in confidence you 
know." 

"Oh in confidence ! to be sure in confi- 
dence ; certainly in confidence ; I keep every 
thing in confidence." 

"But now, I recollect, Mrs Brown, that 
story about Zachary Numps — they say you 
blabb'd." 

" Oh law ! now Mr Lee, no such thing ! I 
only said one day in company with two or 
three people — altogether in confidence — that 
somefolks might, if they chose, say so and so 
about some folks. It was all in confidence, 
but some how or other it got out." 

" If you are sure you can keep the secret 
then, I think I may trust you with it ; but 
you must promise." 

"Oh! promise! certainly I will promise, 
Mr Bob; nobody will promise more than I 
14 



210 BOB LEE. 

will — that is, I certainly will promise to 
keep the secret." 

" Then let me tell you," said he in a low 
solemn voice, hitching his chair at the same 
time nearer to the old woman, who sat with 
open mouth and staring eyes, eager to devour 
the wished-for secret. — "These dollars of 
mine — you know, Mrs Brown" — here he 
stopped, keeping her in the most provoking 
suspense imaginable. 

"Yes, yes, the dollars, the dollars." 

" These dollars of mine, you know, Mrs 
Brown — why they are dollars — hey ? " 

" Yes, the dollars, the dollars, go on, go on, 
where do they come from ? Mr Bob, where 
do you get them? Where do you get them?" 

" Why I get them somewhere — you know, 
but where do you think ? " 

"Yes, yes, you get them somewhere; I 
always thought you got them somewhere ; I 
always told everybody I knew you must get 
them somewhere." 

" Very well, Mrs Brown." 

"Very well! Mr Lee; but where do you 
get them ? That is the question, — you have 
not told me." 

" Where do I get them," said Bob slowly 
and solemnly, and rubbing his hands togeth- 



BOB LEE. 211 

er, screwing up his mouth, rolling his eyes 
and shaking his head, while the old lady was 
on the tenter hooks of suspense and expecta- 
tion — " Where do I get them — Now what 
do you think, Mrs Brown, of my old black 
hen?" 

" Your old black hen ! What do you 
mean?" 

" There 's the thing now ; then you never 
guessed, hey ? Is it possible you never heard 
the story of the goose with the golden egg? " 

"To be sure," replied Goody, opening her 
eyes wider than ever; "to be sure I have, 
to be sure, Mr Bob — to be sure — but your 
hen, you know — is not a goose." 

" That is very true, Mrs Brown, but here 
is another question. If a goose can lay a 
golden egg, why can't a hen lay a silver 
one?" 

" Sure enough, Mr Lee, sure enough, sure 
enough," said the old woman, beginning to 
get some light on the subject. 

" Sure enough, as you say. Now this black 
hen of mine, — every day I go to the nest and 
find a silver dollar there ! " 

"You amaze me. Bob," said she in the 
greatest astonishment. "Who would have 
thought it. Indeed ! indeed ! indeed ! and is 
it true?" 



212 BOB LEE. 

" Why Mrs Brown, if I do not get them 
there, where do I get them ? " 

" Sure enough — well, my stars ! I almost 
knew it — 1 always thought there was some- 
thing strange in the looks of that black hen." 

" Ah, you are a cunning woman — but be 
sure you keep it a secret." 

To be sure, never fear me. A dollar a day ! 
Who would have thought it I Bless me I 
what a lucky man. Do Mr Lee, let me see 
the nest ; it must be very curious ; I am dy- 
ing to see it." 

" Certainly, with all my heart ; but let us 
see if there is nobody coming. Ah, step this 
way ; I keep her in a snug place, you see, 
because if she should run away, what should 
I do for cash 7 " So saying, he led the way, 
and the old woman trotted after him. He 
carried her in at one door and out at another, 
up this passage and down that, over, under^ 
and through, zig-zag and round about through 
all the rigmarole turnings and twistings upon 
his premises, in order to give the whole affair 
an appearance of greater mystery. At last 
coming to a little nook in the corner of his 
barn, he told her that was the place. She 
gazed at it with staring eyes and uplifted 
hands, exclaiming, " Was there ever any 



BOB LEE. 213 

thing like it! " Bob, to carry on the trick, 
concealed a dollar in his sleeve, and thrusting 
his hand into the nest, drew it forth and ex- 
hibited it to the old wonnan, who was now 
fully convinced, because she had actually seen 
the dollar in the nest, and who could doubt 
after such proof l 

It is needless to add that within two days, 
the story was trumpeted all over the town, 
and Bob was beset by greater crowds than 
ever ; so far from diminishing the curiosity 
of his neighbors by the stratagem, he found 
he had augmented it tenfold. It is not to be 
supposed that every one believed the story, 
but there were enough who did, and the re- 
mainder fell to wondering, guessing and 
questioning with more pertinacity than ever. 
Bob's house was besieged from morning till 
night, and the unfortunate man, under these 
redoubled annoyances, found he had got out 
of the frying pan into the fire. He now deni- 
ed the whole story, and declared that he had 
been only sporting with the credulity of the 
old Goody; but unluckily they would not 
credit him : people do not like to have their 
belief in the marvellous disturbed ; they could 
not believe his tale of finding the money in 
an oak tree, but that the dollars were got from 



214 BOB LEE. 

a hen's nest, was something worth believing. 
Bob, at a loss what to do in this emergency, 
apphed to many people for advice, and at last 
was struck with the following counsel from 
Deacon Grabbit. 

" If I were in your place " said the Deacon^ 
"I think I would make the hen turn me a 
penny : — for why ? If folks believe she gives 
you a dollar a day they will be willing to give 
a good price for her, and if they buy her and 
find themselves mistaken, that is their look- 
out. Now I would put her up at auction and 
sell her for the most she will bring, it will be a 
fair bargain, provided you warrant nothing !'^ 

This advice seemed excellent, and Bob was 
not long in making up his mind to follow it. 
He accordingly gave public notice, that he 
should expose his hen at auction in front of 
the Meeting-house on Saturday afternoon next, 
at four of the clock. This announcement 
made a great stir, and when the time arrived, 
he found a prodigious crowd assembled. Bob 
mounted the top of a hogshead with his hen 
in one hand and a stick of wood in the other, 
and began the following harangue — 

" Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong ! Ahoy, 
ahoy, ahoy, ! Know all men by these presents, 
Whereas, nevertheless, notwithstanding. Gen- 



BOB LEE. 215 

tlemen please to come to order and attend to 
the sale. Here we are in the name of the 
commonwealthj and here is the fowl all the 
world is talking about, now to be sold to the 
highest bidder. Whoever buys her will get a 
black pullet for his pay, but as to silver dol- 
lars, that is neither here nor there ; I warrant 
no such thing, but it may be, and it may not 
be: nobody knows all the pickings and scratch- 
ings of the hen creation. I '11 warrant the 
creature to be sound of wind and limb, but 
whether her eggs are round or flat, I shan't 
be flat enough to swear quite so roundly: 
that is the buyer's aff'air, not mine. Gentle- 
men, I moreover warrant her to be a black 
hen, and that no washing can make her white 
except wliitewashing. But whether black or 
white, nobody can say black is the white of 
her eye, for she is as honest a soul as ever 
picked up a crumb, and if she deals in dol- 
lars, you may depend upon it they are not 
counterfeit. Whoever buys her will get his 
money's worth if he does not give too much ; 
and he may reckon upon any reason able num- 
ber of chickens, provided he does not reckon 
them before they are hatched. Gentlemen, I 
won't be certain as to her age, but I will as- 
sure you this, that if she is too young, it is a 



216 BOB LEE. 

fault will grow less and less every day. Here 
she goes. What '11 ye give me? What '11 ye give 
me? What'll ye give me? Come bid away 
gentlemen, and make your fortunes. Some 
folks say I have made my fortune by her, and 
good luck betide them while they speak the 
truth, say I. People say this and that, but I 
say nothing. So, who buys my hen? — Go- 
ing — going, going !" 

The old hen set up a loud cackling, and 
fluttered her wings prodigiously, at the con- 
clusion of this speech, much to the astonish- 
ment of the crowd cf spectators, who gaped, 
stared and scratched their heads, imagining 
that the creature understood every word of 
what was uttered, and never suspecting that 
Bob had given her a smart pull by the tail to 
make her squall out. They shook their heads 
and observed that the creature looked as if 
she saw something: Bob called out for bid- 
ders, but his customers with true yankee cau- 
tion, bid slowly, and made very low offers : 
at last, however, she was knocked off to a 
credulous bumpkin, named Giles Elderberry, 
for six dollars, to be paid in corn and potatoes 
at a fair price the next fall. Bob delivered 
him the hen, and took Giles's note of hand for 
the pay. 



BOB LEE. 217 

Gi!es took his purchase home in great glee, 
hugging himself with the prospect of havhig 
a heap of silver ere many days. He bestow- 
ed her snugly in his hencoop, and was hardly 
able to shut his eyes that night, by thinking 
of the fortune that awaited him. Next morn- 
ing he ran to the nest, but was disappointed 
in not finding the dollar. He waited all day 
and saw the night approach, but nothing re- 
warded his patience. He began to scratch 
his head, but presently bethought himself that 
it was Sunday, and the hen being orthodox 
would not lay till the next day. So he went 
to bed again with undiminished hopes. But 
Monday came and there was no dollar to be 
seen : he cudgelled his brain and suspected 
there might be witches in the case ; thereupon 
he nailed a horse-shoe on the door of the hen- 
coop and waited another day, but nothing 
came of it. He now sat down upon a log of 
wood, and fell to pondering upon the matter 
with all his might ; finally another thought 
struck him, and he imagined a nest-egg might 
be wanting. Straightway he procured a dol- 
lar and lodged it in the nest, but it did not 
bring him even six per cent, interest, for the 
next day there was a dollar and no more. He 
tried various other expedients but they all 



218 BOB LEE, 

failed in the same manner. The neighbors 
inquired about his success, but he informed 
them that the hen put it off terribly. He con- 
sulted Bob Lee about it, and got only a ban- 
tering answer and a hint about the note of 
hand. Giles was not to be bantered out of 
his belief, but laid the case before sundry of 
his acquaintance who were notorious for their 
credulity in all marvellous affairs. Most of 
them gave it as their opinion that the hen was 
bewitched and Giles was already inclined to 
the same belief: his only solicitude now was 
to discover some means of disenchantment. 

At length a waggish fellow of the town, 
who had got a scent of the affair, meeting 
Giles one day, informed him that he knew of 
a scheme that would do the job for him. Giles 
begged earnestly to know it and promised as a 
recompense to give him the first dollar the 
hen should lay, in case the plan succeeded, 
" for you know" said he " it is a fair bargain, 
no cure, no pay." — " You '11 fiiid that, next 
fall," replied the fellow. He then communi- 
cated the scheme, by which Giles was in- 
structed to go to the top of Blueberry Hill the 
next morning at six o'clock, mark out a circle 
on the ground, set up a tall pole in the centre 
with the hen at the top : he was then to walk 



BOB LEE. 219 

three times round it, heels foremost, say the A 
B C backwards, sing a stave of Old Hundred, 
cry cock-a-doodle-doo, and sneeze three times 
— all which he was assured would break the 
spell. 

Giles took all this for gospel, and the next 
morning he was on the spot ready prepared 
at the hour. He set his fowl up in the air 
and went to work with the incantation ; all 
was going on prosperously and according to 
rule : he had got through the psalm tune, 
crowed as exactly like an old rooster as one 
could wish, and was just taking a thumping 
pinch of Scotch yellow to be enable him to 
sneeze with more effect, when casting his eyes 
aloft he descried a monstrous hen hawk upon 
the wing in the act of making a stoop at his 
enchanted fowl. Giles blurted out a tremen- 
dous sternutation, but the hawk was not to be 
sneezed out of his prey, for before he could 
rub away the tears which this explosion shook 
into his eyes, souse came the hawk upon the 
hen and both were out of sight among the 
woods"! 

Giles scratched his head and stared with 
wonder, but they never came back to give 
any account of themselves : he is certain al- 
though, that had he got through the incanta- 



220 BOB LEE. 

tion half a minute sooner, the hen would have 
been as safe as a thief in a mill. I have 
heard people say that he has still some expec- 
tation of their return, but I believe he has giv- 
en up speculating in poultry. However, the 
memory of the story remains in those parts, 
and when a person does anything that shows 
uncommon wisdom, such as discovering that 
the Dutch have taken Holland, or that asses 
have ears, he is said to be akin to the witch- 
es like Bob Lee's hen. 



HORACE IN BOSTON, 

EPODON OD. II. 

Beatns ille qui procul negotiii. 

" Happy the man, escaped from town, 
Who sits in rural snuggery down, 

And takes to cultivation." 
Thus Daniel Discount pondering said, 
And shook his calculating head 

In lonely cogitation. 

" Oh ! would it were my only care — 
A turnip patch an acre square ; 

A corn-field somewhat wider ; 
Ten trees that rosy apples bring, 
The large, for dumplings just the thing ; 

The smaller crabs for cider. 

" My eye ! but 't is a glorious dream ; — 
A flock of sheep ; — a four-ox team ; — 

Fit for domestic labors ; 
A Byfield pig ; — a mongrel goose ; — 
A dapple steed for private use ; — 

A donkey for my neighbors. 

" Within my white-washed garden wall 
I '11 rear me kitchen greens of all 

Choice orders and conditions. 
Here pumpkins shall bedeck the ground ; 
There, mighty cabbage heads, as sound 

As many a politician's. 



222 HORACE IN BOSTON. 

" String beans I '11 raise, of many a class ; 
My pease in flavor shall surpass 

All gormandizing wishes ; 
And onions of astounding size 
I Start iron tears from Pluto's eyes, 
When served among his dishes. 

And up and down the fields I'll stray, 
Where lambkins frisk the livelong day, 

And pigs and poultry squabble ; 
Or round my barn-yard sauntering go, 
To hear the doughty cockerels crow, 

And valiant turkeys gobble. 

"And then my dining-room shall be 
Under a shady greenwood tree ; — 

There o'er my pewter platter, 
While I courageously fall to, 
The plaintive turtle-dove shall coo, 

And bob o'links shall chatter. 

" Give me a plain and frugal meal ; — 
A shin of beef, — a scrag of veal ; 

A hoe-cake like a squatter's. 
Some little kickshaw stew or fry ; 
A gooseberry snap ; — a pumpkin pie ; — 

A boiled sheep's head and trotters.. 

*' Oh for that dish to bumpkins dear ! 
Which suits all seasons of the year, 

Calm, blustering, bright or cloudy ; 
I doubt what learned Thebaus call 
The same, but Yankee natives all 

Have CHRISTENED it Pan-Dowdy.'* 

* This rustical and true Yankee dish is not now, we trow, often 
seen at table in Boston. Should any citizen be ignorant of its nature, 
we beg leave to inform him, on the authority of Dr Dryasdust, that 
it is a prodigious apple pie, with a brown crust, baked in a deep pan, 
unde nomen. Crust and contents are crushed into a chaos : and when 
served up cold, as the Doctor says, credite Pisones, it is fit for an Arch- 
duke. 



HORACE IN BOSTON. 223 

" With line and rod of cane-pole slout, 
I '11 tickle many a simple trout, 

Which all esteem a crack fish ; 
Along the streamlet's sunny side, 
I '11 lay me down perdue, yet wide 

Awake as any blackfish. 

" Notes, bills, deeds, bonds — I will not scan ; 
Those daily plagues of mortal man 

My eyes no more shall light on. 
All paltry pelf I now despise, 
To bear away a nobler prize — 

The best bull-calf at Brighton. 

" No whims of fashion I '11 obey, 

But dress in homespun, green or gray. 

Drab, yellow, dun or grizzle. 
No more John Kuhn & Co. shall strait 
Lace up these limbs ; no more this pate 

Shall Bogue & Dudley frizzle. 

" Ah ! busy Boston's bustling sons ! 
Beneath blue-devils, dust and duns, 

Forever fagged and flustered, — 
A long adieu ! and so good bye. 
For lo ! I'm off— as said the fly, 

When flitting from the mustard." 

Thus Daniel, in poetic mood. 

Near Stale Street corner, pondering stood, 

Of passers-by unheedful ; — 
When lo ! up steps a needy knave ; 
Pops in his hand a note to shave ; — 

Great premium for the " needful." 

He lifts his head — he stirs his frame — 
He scans the sum and signer's name, 

With gestures quite alarming. 
His air-built castles disappear ; ' 
Fifty per cent, for half a year 

Is fatter gain than farming. 



224 HORACE IN BOSTON. 

This, in a trice, dispelled the charm ; 
Daniel has never bought his farm, 

Nor thinks of it, that I know. 
And, gentle reader, well or ill, 
The hunks 'will cash your paper still. 

Whene'er you lack the rhino. 



THE DEAD SET. 

WHEREIN I SPEAK OF MOST DISASTROUS CHANCES. 



BY A NERVOUS MAN. 



The clock struck two, a welcome sound, for 
it was the dinner hour. Some people dine at 
five ; let them. I am a man of appetite, and 
am sharp-set full three hours sooner. A cool 
air and a long walk in the forenoon had con- 
tributed in fitting me to enjoy the bounties of 
Providence with particular relish. The table 
already smoked under a load of savory viands. 
The flavor that reeked upwards from a dozen 
dishes would have overpowered in genial fra- 
grance, all the incense ever snuffied by a Pagan 
divinity. 

As I moved by the window, my eye was 
caught by a sign newly erected on the oppo- 
site side of the street: ^'' Ready-made coffins 
for sale here .'" Confusion ! Was ever a sight 
so mal-apropos ? To be caught just at the 
moment of dinner, with such a damper to the 
spirits ! Was the thing possible ? I looked 
again. It was no illusion. I even fancied 
I could see the horrid receptacles within the 
15 



226 THE DEAD SET. 

door. A cold shivering came over my frame. 
I rushed to the table, but could not get the 
direful image from my mind. I remembered 
that I had a fit of sickness some fifteen years 
before ; and " what," thought I, " if I should 
be sick again !" The idea made me a little 
qualmish at the first start. I began to eat, but 
alas ! my appetite had fled — I could not tell 
how. It was to no purpose that dish after 
dish was set before me ; my languid palate 
refused to be excited by all the condiments of 
the cooking art ; spices were no longer stimu- 
lating, nor pickles provocative. Can a worse 
accident happen, the longest day in the year, 
than to lose one's dinner? Think of my 
vexation, then, to be balked at the very thresh- 
hold, and by such a provoking occurrence. 

I put up with the disappointment as philo- 
sophically as I was able. " To-morrow," 
said I to myself, " I shall get over it, and make 
amends for lost time." Never was fond anti- 
cipation more cruelly falsified. The sight of 
that accursed sign had lost none of its dire po- 
tency. I could not eat my dinner ! Just so 
the next day and the next. It was a perpetu- 
al scarebrow to my affrighted appetite. I 
never could look out of the Avindow without 
seeing it ; in fact, it seemed to be stereotyped 



THE DEAD SET. 227 

on my brain. This could not be endured long. 
I began to grow thin. Horrid ! I was thought 
of for an alderman not six months before. 

So I changed my lodgings ; no inconsider- 
able exertion for " men of mould.'' I hate to 
be moving about. " Make them like unto a 
wheel," I always regarded as the bitterest 
curse ever uttered. I chose a diiferent part of 
the city, and took care never to walk through 
the street 1 had quitted. In a short time I be- 
gan to pick up. 

I had not quite recovered my pristine rotun- 
dity, when I was awakened one morning just 
at day-break, (I never rise before ten,) by a 
violent ringing of the door-bell. In less than 
a minute the house-maid burst into the room 
with " Sir, Doctor Burdock has come to see 
you." "A murrain confound Doctor Bur- 
dock," said I, " what is the quack after here?" 
My reply was unattended to by the maid, who 
instantly popped out and introduced the Doc- 
tor, a cadaverous looking caitiff, attended by a 
couple of fellows — young beginners, I sup- 
pose, in the art of killing. '' Ah !" exclaimed 
he, 'Mucky we found you so quick — called 
at three houses in this street before we came 
to the right one, — some alteration made in 
the numbers last week. But I must proceed 



228 THE DEAD SET. 

to work immediately — hope you sent for me 
the moment you felt the first symptoms." 
My astonishment at this unexpected intrusion 
prevented me from uttering a word for a few 
moments ; but at length I asked, 

" What is your business here?" 

" My dear sir," he replied, "I cannot stop 
to describe to you the whole extent of my 
practice in the city, because you might die 
in the mean time, you know. How long ago 
did you swallow the poison?" 

"Sir," said I, " you are altogether mista- 
ken, I have swallowed no poison, nor " 

''Nonsense — it is idle to say that saltpetre 
is not poison ; a whole ounce at a time. 
Terrible burning pain in the stomach, you 
say. Warm water, girl, immediately." 

" I tell you Doctor, you have called at the 
wrong " 



" Fiddlestick — no matter whether I call it 
by the wrong name or not ; poison is poison, 
call it what you will. I must apply the 
stomach pump immediately." 

" Get out of the house, blockhead ; I 'II 
have none of your infernal machines thrust 
down my throat. I tell you again, I am not 

"Ah, what an obstinate man !— and just 



THE DEAD SET. 229 

on the brink of the grave, perhaps. Some 
people will have their way, though they die 
for it. But we cannot wait." 

*' Go to the " 

*' Bless me ! he begins to rave ! — See how 
his eyes roll. 'T is the effect of the poison. 
Quick ! quick ! seize hirn by the arms — 
hold his mouth open. Poor man ! I fear it is 
all over with him ! " 

My condition was now desperate. I was 
already in their clutches ; but despair gave 
me strength. I lent the doctor a punch in the 
ribs with all the force I could exert, which 
threw him over backwards ; and in falling, 
luckily for me, he knocked down one of his 
assistants. Ere they had a moment's time 
to pick themselves up, I attacked the third, 
and pitched him out of the room. Then re- 
turning to the two fallen heroes, I succeeded 
in trundhng them through the door- way on 
all fours. I then clapped the door to, and 
locked it in an instant. For a moment I im- 
agined myself in safety, but presently over- 
heard them speak of fetching a crow-bar, and 
bursting open the door '' to save the poor 
creature's life," as they compassionately add- 
ed. Not an instant was to be lost. I hur- 
ried on a few clothes, stripped the bed to 



230 THE DEAD SET. 

make a rope ladder, fastened it to the win- 
dow, slipped oat silently, and glided into the 
street. I ran through the first narrow lane I 
came to, without looking behind me, scam- 
pered up one alley and down another, and 
did not think myself out of danger till I was 
entirely out of breath. 

What became of Dr Burdock I cannot say, 
for I felt too great a horror at the danger I 
had escaped, ever to go near the scene after- 
ward. I took new lodgings, and began to re- 
cover from the effects of the catastrophe. 
There is nothing like a sudden fright for tak- 
ing down a man's flesh. However, for a 
long while, I could not hear the door-bell 
ring of a morning, without being thrown into 
a cold sweat ; and if ever the nightmare as- 
sailed me, it was sure to come in the shape of 
a stomach pump, with a nozzle as big as the 
boiler of a steam-boat, sticking fast in my 
windpipe. After a time, I recovered some 
serenity of mind, and was master of a tol- 
erable appetite. Ah I with what disconso- 
late regrets did I look back upon the golden 
days of good eating ! when the peaceful calm 
of my mind resembled an unruflled ocean of 
turtle soup, and each happy year glided 
round with as noiseless and undisturbed a 



THE DEAD SET. 231 

imiformity as a fat goose revolves on the 
spit; 

0ne day I was interrupted in the midst of 
my dinner, — I think I had not felt so good 
an appetite for many a month. I had heen 
but an hour and a half at table, and several 
courses remained to come on. I was told 
there were persons at the door desiring to 
speak with me. " Particularly engaged," 
said 1. " But they are come on very urgent 
business, and must be attended to," said the 
servant — and I observed a strangely myste- 
rious expression of face with which this was 
uttered. I hurried to the door, hardly know- 
ing why. No man in his senses surely, ever 
would have left his dinner for such a thing. 
But let that pass. There was a fatality about 
it. At the door I was met by four men bear- 
ing on their shoulders a coffin ! I was hor- 
ror struck; all the terrific forebodings and 
frightful images which had haunted my im- 
agination from the beginning, returned with 
tenfold blackness. My hair rose on end. I 
stood aghast, rooted to the ground, and had 
no power to move ! 

"Are you Mr Brown?" asked one of the 
spectres. 



232 THE DEAD SET." 

" I am," replied I. (John Brown, good 
reader, is my unfortunate name.) 

^' Here is the coffin we have made for you. 
We have worked upon it with all possible 
despatch, because we knew you would want 
it immediately." 

'' But I have no particular desire to be bu- 
ried," said I, trembling, and unable to stand 
without leaning against the wall. 

" That is neither here nor there," they re- 
plied. " Our business is to bring it to this 
place for Mr Brown, who is to be buried to- 
day. You are the man." 

" But I am not dead, nor likely to die. I 
have just eaten a hearty dinner — that is, I 
have begun to eat it. You surely won't put 

me in the ." I could utter no more; 

fright absolutely took away the power of 
speech. 

"Why not 7" returned they, with certain 
significant winkings. " We are accustomed 
to despatch our business and ask no ques- 
tions." 

It was plain now that there was a conspi- 
racy to bury me alive. What could be done 1 
If I retreated into the house, I could hope for 
no protection from the inmates, who were 
doubtless in the plot. How otherwise would 



THE DEAD SET. 233 

a coffin have been brought to the door? 
There was no resource but to cut and run. 
1 pushed through the entry, knocking down 
two of the conspirators as I sprang out of the 
door, and took to my heels without a hat. 
Turning a corner, and losing sight of my 
pursuers, I came upon a hack standing in the 
street, with the door open. I sprang in with- 
out a moment's thought, glad of any means 
of escape. The hackman, thinking me to be 
the person he had been waiting for, shut the 
door, mounted the box, and drove on. 

The fatigue I had suffered in running, 
threw me into a slumber. At last I was 
awakened and told I had reached the place. 
On alighting I found myself in a yard, from 
which 1 was conducted into a spacious build- 
ing, which I took for a tavern. I imagined 
myself at some distance from the city, and 
congratulated myself on my escape from it. 
Unlucky wretch ! — I was at that moment in 
the Massachusetts General Hospital ! 

In a few minutes I found myself surround- 
ed by numerous members of the faculty. 
'' This patient," said the principal surgeon, 
taking my head between his hands, " is af- 
flicted with a paralysis of the lower jaw — 
be so good as to open your mouth." I shook 



234 THE DEAD SET. 

my head, struggling to get free, but he held 
on the faster. " We shall now proceed to 
exhibit some electrical experiments upon him, 
which I am strongly of opinion will be at- 
tended with beneficial results ; the worst that 
can happen is, that they may knock out some 
of his grinders, and loosen most of the front 
teeth." 

These horrible words sounded in my ears 
like a death-knell. I could not speak ; for 
the scientific operator had distended my jaws 
to the utmost stretch with a wooden gag, 
which I in vain attempted to force out. My 
hands were secured, and I was held fast in 
my seat by the doctors, who all crowded 
round me. "It would be such a beautiful 
experiment," said they. Was ever any des- 
tiny like mine 7 Driven half to distraction 
by ready-made cofiins on one day — attacked 
by a stomach-pump on another — within a 
hair's breadth of being buried alive on the 
next, and now the grinders about to be blown 
out of my jaws by a broadside from an elec- 
trical battery ! 

"Verily," thought I, " this is destined to 
be the last day of my life;" an army of doc- 
tors are upon me, armed with all sorts of 
blood-thirsty weapons. Death or dislocation 



THE DEAD SET. 235 

will most assuredly be my lot." I grew as 
pale as a sheet : the perspiration stood in 
large drops upon my face. I began to bellow 
like a bull of Bashan, and struggle and kick 
with all vengeance. Nothing seemed likely 
to avail me, and the machine approached 
that was to disable my powers of mastication 
forever, when all at once, the back of the 
chair gave way, and a dozen of us were 
sprawling on the floor in an instant. With 
the quickness of lightning I sprang to the 
door, cleared every passage to the street, 
knocking down all that came in my way, 
and throwing chairs and tables behind me to 
encumber the passage for my pursuers. On 
gaining the street, I continued running, de- 
termined to escape from the city as quick as 
possible. I directed my course towards West 
Boston bridge, but just as I set my foot upon 
it, the draw was hoisted for the passage of a 
sloop. I turned about and ran to the Western 
Avenue. I had proceeded a quarter of a mile 
upon it, when I was stopped by the sight of 
a strange looking carriage approaching me. 
It was a hearse ! 

" Then came my fit again ! " I could no 
more have endured to encounter it, than I 



236 ■ THE DEAD SET. 

could have faced a hungry tiger. Most assu- 
redly had I approached it, I should have been 
seized and carried off; for so my terrified 
imagination whispered me. Again 1 turned 
and ran back. After passing through several 
streets, my terror a little subsided ; I felt a 
gnawing hunger ; — think of an unfinished 
dinner, and the galopades 1 had practised. 
It was now evening, and I entered a tavern. 
I ordered a supper, and while it was getting 
ready, attempted to divert my mind from the 
harrowing thoughts that occupied it, by read- 
ing the various bills with which bar-rooms 
are generally ornamented. But woful attempt ! 
the first that met my eye was a staring sheet, 
headed with an enormous black coflin, and 
the title of ^^ Jin Elegy on the Death of Mr 
John Broain, who committed suicide under 
mental derangement occasioned hy a scolding 
wife^ etcy In a paroxysm of horror and 
vexation I tore the sheet to atoms, and rushed 
into the street. All human things seemed 
combined to drive me mad. It was raining 
cats and dogs. " I '11 drown myself," said I, 
'' and make an end of it." I cannot say I 
was quite serious in the resolution, but I ran 



THE DEAD SET. 237 

towards the wharf, determined at least to 
devise some means of escaping from the city 
by water. But how idle to struggle against 
the decrees of fate ! Passing through Broad 
Street, I stumbled into a cellar among a troop 
of Irishmen, who were holding a wake over 
the dead body of one of their countrymen. I 
lost my senses by the fall ; and the Paddies 
having settled the matter that I was kilt, re- 
solved to bury us both together, in order to 
save time. 

I know not how it happened, but when I 
came to myself I Avas scampering off at full 
speed with the whole troop in pursuit, call- 
ing out to me to come back and be buried 
dacently like a jantleman. The upshot of it 
was that 1 fell into the dock. 

The Humane Society must tell the rest. I 
am still alive, and have not been buried, 
though I consider it a downright impossibili- 
ty to avoid the catastrophe much longer. I 
now feel disposed to take the matter into my 
own hands, and fairly entomb myself for 
some short and safe space of time, hoping this 
may break the spell. Reader, have pity on 
me. Six months ago I quit*^ filled a capa- 



'238 THE DEAD SET. 

cious easy chair, and now you might truss 
me into an eel-skin. The Three Perils of 
Man have long been notorious ; but there are 
two others that might make the number five 
— A Deputy Sheriff, and a Dead Set. 



HORACE IN BOSTON. 



LIB. II. OD. XVI. 



Olium divoB rogat m patenli. 



Oh, man in the moon ! can you tell how it comes 

That the town is all bustle and riot ? 
When your miserly hunks with his measureless sums, 
And the twopenny trader that picks up his crumbs, 

All sigh for contentment and quiet. 

*' Content," they ding-dong like the chimes of the clock, 

" Content," cry the brisk and the lazy ; 
Even babbling urchins these syllables mock, 
And Paddy O'Splutter that digs in the dock, 

Keeps singing " Oh let us be asy." 

'T is a phantom you study in vain to entrap ; 

It comes not by favor like kissing ; 
When lost, the town crier can 't mend your mishap, 
Though he '11 ferret your reverence out, in a snap, 
All the children you ever had missing. 

No witchcraft can keep the blue-devils at bay ; ? 

You may skulk, — but the spectres will find ye. i 
There 's an imp at your elbow wherever you stray : 
You may saddle your nag, and go dashing away — 

There 's the hypo astraddle behind ye. 

In vain will you traverse the globe to repair 

A temper that crooked and crank is. 
John Randolph, abroad for a change of the air. 
Played as crazy a prank to the Muscovite bear 

As ever he played to the Yankees. 



240 



HORACE IN BOSTON. 



Perhaps you are sighing a statesman to shine, 

An office you think is so rare O ; 
When mounted as high as you wish, I opine 
You'll have just as much comfort, sweet master of mine, 

As the toad that gets under a harrow. 

Bravely strutting aloft, on this day ye may be, 

On the next, down in dust ye are humble ; 
Then scour your breast from cupidity free. 
And remember, the higher you clamber the tree, 
You 've the heavier bang when you tumble. 

Pew and short are the naps of a king ; while the clown 

All the night in security dozes ; 
A cushion of state has not much of the down, 
And Martin Van Buren I '11 bet you a crown, 

Does not loll on a litter of roses. 

See the Guelphs of Old England in desperate fear; 

See the props of nobility shaken ; 
John Bull has jounced many a notable peer ; 
And Wellington, late, with a mob in his rear, 

Was lucky in saving his bacon. 

See the Dey of Algiers bid his cut-throats adieu, 

And lose all his wives and his treasure ; 
And sad Louis Philippe most dismally rue 
The day that King Charles march'd away from St. Cloud 

A little too quick for his pleasure. 

Great Achilles, at last was tripped up by the heel ; 

Belisarius begged on his knees ; and 
Had Cicero smothered his speech-making zeal 
Within little Arpinum, the ruffian steel 

Would not have been stuck in his weasand. 

And a mucn longer yarn I could spin ye — but why 

Should [ leil about Pompeys and Catos 7 
Even crackskull Emmons, on hogshead high, 
Ducks his pate in a trice, when the rabble let fly 

Dead cats and rotten potatoes. I 



HORACE IN BOSTON. 241 

Though fortune may lead you a few lucky jumps, 

Yet she's a vile termagant, mark ye ; 
She visits her great ones with buffets and thumps ; 
I'll warrant my shoe-black has fits of the dumps. 

Because he 's a gentleman darkey. 

Then why should I nourish ambition and pride, 

Or go mad after glory and riches ? 
I can plod through the world, be it ever so wide ; 
Only give me two things — I ask nothing beside, — 

A light heart and a thin pair of breeches. 

Grim Death has clutched Byron away in his prime, 

And made great Napoleon knuckle ; 
I suspect I am only reprieved for a time, 
Because I can hammer a doggerel rhyme, 

And make the citizens chuckle. 

Then long may the city and commonwealth thrive. 

And though I 'm in debt, I do n't care if 
The limbs of the law take this body alive, 
I 've a snug sky-parlor in Ward No. 5 ; 

So a fig for the Deputy Sheriff. 



16 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

A DRAMATIC SKETCH. 

Scene. State Street. Enter Ticklenose and Buzzolio. Theif 
alight over the door of the Union Bank. 

Tick. Good day, Buzzy. Fine hot weath- 
er for young pungents. How is the sharp end of 
your nose ? 

Buz. Pretty considerably 'cute friend Tic- 
kle, What brings you from Dorchester flats to- 
day ? 

Tick. The spirit of inquiry and a southerly 
breeze. When did you come to town ? 

Buz. Three days ago, — What are they 
humming about on the flats 1 

Tick. Nothing particularly bloody : the Dor* 
Chester farmers are as dry as hay. Where is ht- 
tle Tinglechin and old Scratchear } 

Buz. Tingle, the little dunce, has broken 
the tip of his nose short off, trying to harpoon 
the face of a Kilby Street auctioneer : he is now 
on the top of a chimney over the Post Office^ 
grinding it sharp again. 

Tick. Let him live and learn. Scratchear 
knows a trick worth two of that. 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 243 

Buz. Yes. I just left him making a dig at 
*n alderman's nose. Tickle, where do you 
hang out when you come to town ? 

Tick. State Street always. 

Buz. Why so ? 

Tick. Because I love to see men in a 
swarm ; — and then the people here are so much 
like moschetoes, they remind me of home. 

Buz. Right Tickle, they are always in a 
hum. 

Tick. Yes, Buzzy, and they sting as sharp 
as any moschetoes. There 's only this differ- 
ence ; they sting one another ; — we don 't. 

Buz. That 's a fact, friend Ticklenose. I 
know something about them. Three days that 
I have spent in town, have given me a world of 
experience. I have scratched the phizzes of all 
you see in the street here. 

Tick. Who is this sharky looking fellow 
coming toward the door .'' 

Buz. That is Joe Crimp, the money lend- 
er. See — he has got a pigeon to pluck. How 
the corners of his mouth twist upward ! Ten 
per cent, a month. I '11 bet my hind claws : — 
nothing else could raise such a grin. There 's 
compound interest in the twinkle of his eye. 

Tick. Lucky dog ! money-making must have 
a charm indeed ! If I were not a moscheto, I 



244 THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

should of all things like to be a money-lender 
and haunt State Street. 

Buz, Ha ! ha ! how raw you are ! Lucky 
dog indeed ! Strike me pug-nosed ! but I w^ould 
rather be a dog outright, for a dog can gnaw his 
bone in comfort, which is more than you can say 
of a note-shaver. What do you think Tickle, 
my wise one ? I lodged at this same man's 
house last night : how do you think he slept ? 
Tick. Dreamingof money-bags, hey .^ 
Buz. The first half hour he was ridden by 
the nightmare in the shape of the Chelsea Bank : 
he puffed and groaned till I thought he would 
suffocate. I could not help pitying his condi- 
tion and so gave him a smart punch under the 
left eye. He sprang up half awake and half- 
choking, and cried out, "Help ! help ! help ! 
the post notes are sticking in my throat ! they 
won't pass up nor down ! draw them out wuth a 
long discount ! help! help !" After gasping some 
time, he came to himself and went to sleep again, 
but it was only to dream that he was in the in- 
fernal regions, where Beelzebub had set him to 
skinning flints, squeezing blood out of turnips 
and other occupations which he had learned in 
this world. By and by, he imagined that his face 
was chained to the edge of a grindstone which a 
score of imps were turning swifter than the fly- 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 245 

wheel of a steam engine, and crying out " How 
do you like it ? How do you like it ? This is 
the sport for a money-broker !" At the same 
moment I gave a loud buzz in his right ear, and 
he sprang awake in an agony of fright, exclaim- 
ing, " Ninetyeight per cent, below parf! ! 
malleable iron !" 

Tick. Ha ! ha ! ha ! a pleasant night's 
sleep. But it 's only a nervous affection and 
he '11 get over it. 

Buz. Yes, when he hangs himself. 

Tick. What fat chuff is that going into the 
Salamander Insurance Office ? 

Buz. That is old Skid, the grocer of Long 
Wharf, he 's going to his morning rendezvous to 
pick up his daily quantum of State Street scan- 
dal. Ticklenose ! my pungent little friend ! 
these insurance offices are such places! — You 've 
no idea ! 

Tick. What — Buzzy ? I don 't understand 
you. 

Buz. [Clapping the thumb of his right claw to 
the side of his nose.] Spirit of inquiry, Tickle, 
hey ! my sharp one ! 

Tick. Stocks and exchange — Oh I take. 

Buz. Pooh! how green you are! No Tickle, 
scandal, scandal, scandal ! 

Tick. Hey day ! what these old grave cur- 
mudgeons .'' 



246 THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

Buz, As I am a true moscheto, Tickle, 
these insurance offices are the greatest reposito- 
ries of that commodity on the face of the earth. 

Tick. You don't say so ! [Holds up both 
his fore-claws in amazement.'] 

Buz. They talk of the scandal of old maids, 
but the scandal of an insurance office beats it all 
to sticks. What do you think these grave cur- 
mudgeons do but demolish reputations, manufac- 
ture rumors, pick holes in characters and rip up 
old stories ? 

Tick. Scandalous ! scandalous ! — Could n't 
we get a chance to witness something of the 
kind Buzzy ! 

Buz. That is easy enough, friend Tickle, 
but it is sad to see how men are given to slan- 
der. 

Tick. No doubt of it, Buzzy, but mosche- 
toes can 't help that. And as the old lady said, 
'^^ if the house is going to burn down, I want to 
see it." 

Boz. You are an inquisitive insect, I per- 
ceive. Let us ffit then, I see a knot of these 
chaps in the Salamander. Snap your wings and 
follow me. 

[(Scene changes to the Salamander Insurance Office.^ 

Buz. Here we are, Ticklenose, and here are 



THE TWO MOSCHETOE^. 247 

.•ur heroes, Skid the grocer, Hyde the tallow 
chandler. Lump the sugar baker, Fogg, the land 
speculator, Twist the attorney. Blackball the 
bank director. Shirk the underwriter, Slump the 
stockbroker, Pinch, Nippum, Snap and Gouge 
the money lenders — a precious lot ! — but hear 
them talk. 

Fogg. [^Folding up a paper and placing it 
in his pocket hook.'] A good spec, Nippum, a 
very good spec. I 've got Foster to manage it. 
I can depend upon Foster — Foster is an hon- 
est man. 

J^ip. An honest man — but — watch him ! 

Fogg. Let me alone for that. I 've had 
enough to do with fellows like him to know 'em 
all. Ugh ! ugh ! [Coughing. ] Hard to trust 
anybody now^-a days. 

Slump. There is old Simon Swiggs going 
dow^n street. He carries a pretty good face ; 
look at him. 

Shirk. I guess he lives up to the mark ! — 
wonder what it costs him a year. That face of 
his do n't look like cold water. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
[laughs.] 

Blackball. What is this story about Tim 
Tenpenny ? I 've an idea it 's rather a black af- 
fair. 

Gouge. Why, between you and me and the 



248 THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

post, I guess Tim has got himself into a bad 
scrape : — but some folks can hush these things 
up. I don't see through it : however, the old 
man had to pay up, I guess. 

Twist. I know a long story about him — I 
say nothing, but if I chose to tell — no matter 
— things may come out some time or other. 
This is a cursed rascally world — that 's all I 
can say. 

Lump. I wonder Fogg, how your neighbor 
Winkle gets along : won't he kick the bucket 
soon ? 

Fogg. Don't know : but he lives high 
enough. 

Lump. Guess he '11 cut up pretty well, hey I 

Fogg. Not so certain, — rather think he was 
pretty deep in Mississippi stock. 

Hyde. People live confounded high now-a- 
days — I don't see how they stand it. Egad, 
my butcher's bill frightens me every time it 
comes in. 

Skid. I '11 tell ye what : I went down into 
my kitchen yesterday, and I cut my dinner 
down three dishes. " There," says I, '' if a 
man can't live upon that, he ought to starve." 
Confound it. There 's Joe Snatchcopper owes 
me six thousand dollars — I shall never get it. 
The fellow lives like a nabob — and all upon my 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 249 

money. Never look at him without seeing 
roast chickens in his face, and thinking I had to 
pay for 'em ! Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! [Cot/ghs ] 

Fogg. Bad cough, that of yours neighbor 
Skid. 

Skid. Nothing at all, — just a httle phthis- 
icky touch I 've had for thirty year or so, but 
it 's going off, I find. 

Twist. Ay, no doubt of that ; my old grand- 
father's cough went off' just so ; — but it hap- 
pened that the old man went off with it. 

Skid. You don't say so ! [Somewhat 
alarmed.^ Really I never was in better health 
in my life : — such an appetite as I have ! Yes- 
terday I ate a dinner ! — I won 't say what, but 
if the turkey and chicken and duck and pudding 
and pie did n't suffer, there 's none of me, — 
that 's all ! 

Pinch. And that is what you call cutting your 
dinner dow^n, and hving on short commons ? — 
[A laugh.] 

Skid. Come, now, friend Pinch, what do 
you understand by "total abstinence." 

Pinch. Not to drink so fast as to choke 
yourself. 

Skid. [Laughing.] Hob ! hob ! hob ! 
Ugh ! ugh ! [co7fghs.] That 's just what I 
should expect of a tee-totaller. Now, Pinch, 



250 THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

you are a very devout man, and go to church 
regularly. What do ministers preach now-a- 
days ? 

Pinch. Why, as old Deacon Sly observed 
the other day, — " In old times, ministers used to 
preach the gospel, but now-a-days they preach 
nothing but rum and niggers." 

Skid. [Laughing.'] Hoh ! hoh I hoh ! 
Excellent ! excellent ! and true as the book into 
the bargain. But who is that fellow at the cor- 
ner, Mr Snap ? 

Snap. Oh ! that 's an acquaintance of my 
family ; — his name is Snake. 

Pinch. Ah, — I understand, — he is to 
marry your daughter ; a n't it so, Mr Snap. 

Snap. May turn out so ; — however, I guess 
he do n't borrow any more money of me very 
soon. 

Pinch. How so ? — You 'd lend him, would 
n't you ? 

Snap. I '11 tell you how it is. It 's all set- 
tled you see, that he 's to have my daughter ; — 
tolerable match ; — doing pretty well, but wants 
capital. However, no matter for that : — he 's 
to marry her you see, that's settled — I agreed 
to it. [Takes a pinch of snuff. ~\ Regular 
acquaintance : — tells me all his affairs : — asks 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 251 

my advice : — all well enough. — Well ! — 
comes to me t' other day, — wants six hundred 
dollars to take up a note ; — pay it again in two 
days. Well, you see, — let him have the six 
hundred. Ahem ! — all safe enough : memoran- 
dum check. — Well ! two days after, — hrings 
me the money, — brings me the six hundred 
dollars, you see : — counts it out, lays it down, 
says " much obliged " and was going off, but 
says I to him, Mr Snake, you 've forgot the 
twenty cents for interest ! Hoh ! hoh ! hoh ! 
hoh ! Made him pay it ! — made him pay in- 
terest ! — told him I would have it ! Hoh ! 
hoh ! hoh ! [Laughs outrageously.] 

Pinch. Speaking of marrying and all that, 
reminds me of what I did last winter. There 's 
a chap used to come a courting my kitchen 
maid : — they used to sit up o' nights keeping 
a fire till twelve and one o'clock. Thinks I, 
this won 't do, burning out wood at this rate, — 
costs money, hey ! — Won 't have it. Went 
down into the kitchen, and gave orders to have 
no fire evenings, — only a pot of charcoal to 
warm their toes : — let them have that to do 
their courting by : — egad ! knew it would soon 
spoil their sport ! — Well ! went down into the 
kitchen again about eleven o'clock ! — egad ! 



252 THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

there they were, sure enough, knocked down 
by the charcoal, as stiff as pokers. Hah ! hah I 
hah ! — Doused a bucket of water on them and 
brought them to. Egad ! the fellow went off 
sick enough : had no more courting o' nights 
from him; — broke that up — short metre. 
Hah ! hah ! hah ! [Laughter.] 

Blackball. A good joke, a very good joke ! 
hah ! hah ! an excellent joke. [Looks at his 
watch.~\ Half past one ! Well, I must go to 
dinner. [Exit. 

Pinch. There he goes ! A sneaking fellow ! 
What d' ye think ? He would n't discount my 
paper at the Triangle Bank ! 'T was all his 
doings, confound him, though he knew I was 
suffering for the want of the money — would n't 
do it though I offered the very best security ! 
Cursed hard hearted set these bank directors ! — 
have n't the least feeling, nor the least compas- 
sion. Ah ! this is a confounded unfeehng hard- 
hearted world ! I 'm heartily sick of it ! 

[Exit. 
Shirk. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Served you right, 
old Pinch. I '11 tell you what, Mr Slump, it 's 
my opinion he 's rather down at the heel. 
'T would not surprise me to see him go by the 
board before long. 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 253 

Slump. Should n't wonder. 

Fogg. Mr Snap, if it's a fair question, 
a n't you on his paper to a heavy amount ? 

Snap. [Looking very serious.] Not a dollar. 

Fogg. Faith I was told so on very high 
authority. 

J^ippum. And so was I, Mr Snap. 
Snap. Ods ! my life ! what a rascally 
world this is ! How folks are given to lying 
and slander ! 

Gouge. That 's a fact, for t' other day there 
was a story got into circulation about me — a 
most villanous affair, about negotiating some pa- 
per — all a precious lie from beginning to end. 
I suppose it was set on foot in the Tornado In- 
surance Office : — there 's a set of tattlers go 
there every day and hatch mischief with their 
infernal scandal. 

Lump. If I had my will of such fellows, I 'd 
hang e'm up hke onions, fifty in a rope. These 
rascally backbiters are the pest of creation. 

Gouge. I tell you what ; — if a man do n't 
take precious careof his reputation now-a-days, 
it 's all over with him before he can say *' what 's 
this ?" Ha ! Is n't that old Levi Lackpenny 
t' other side of the street } Just the man I 
want to see. [Exit. 



254 THE TWO MOSCHETOES. 

Snap. Yes, and I '11 be bound, you 'II give 
a good account of him before you 've done. 
Egad ! that . Gouge is the sharpest fellow ! 
He 's at the bottom of half the knavery stirring 
in these villanous times. 

Lump, [shaking his head.] So I 've heard. 
Ah ! this is a confounded slanderous world I 
He and Joe Crimp got up a story t' other day^ 
that I had failed. 

Snap. How ! they did n't though I 

Lump. Fact, Mr Snap, but I made them eat 
their own words. Ah ! the precious rascals ! 

Skid. Lord ! how this world is given to 
slander ! 

Hyde. What a set of tattling, babbling, 
prying, meddling backbiters there is about ! 

J^ippum. It 's strange folks can't mind their 

own business ! 

All. Very strange ! Very strange ! 

[Exeunt. 
[Manent Ticklenose and Buzzolio.'] 
Buz. Well, friend Ticklenose ! what is thy 
opinion of these pleasant animals called men I 

Tick. [Holding up both his fore-claws in 
utter astonishment.] Do n't ask me, friend 
Buzzy ! I am in a tremor of amazement I My 



THE TWO MOSCHETOES, 255 

very nose quakes to think of them. Oh Buzzy I 
Buzzy ! Let us thank heaven ! 

Buz. For what ? 

Tick. Thank heaven, Buzzy, that we are 
moschetes and no t men ! [Exeunt. 



L' ENVOI. 

And now farewell ; — my foolish task is done ; 

Go little book, and to oblivion fare. 

Chill blasts await thee in the desert air 
Of this wise world, inveterate foe to fun. 
Closed thy career, perchance, when scant begun, 

What crowds will greet thee with a sapient scowl, 

And deem that wisdom is a moping owl, 
That broods all taciturn, 'mid shadows dun. 

Ah ! little reck they of thy meaning sage. 
Yet should one eye, bedimm'd with care or pain, 

Grow bright in lingering o'er thy sportive page, 
'T is my reward ; I shall not toil in vain. 

But bless the gentle thought, and genial hour 

That deck life's dusty path with one bright flower. 






